


The Inner Light

by Tyrion_Dragonsoul



Category: Alan Wake (Video Game), Control (Video Game)
Genre: Canon Divergence with Control, Co-Written work of Seacat2401 and Alessassoul, Crossover, Gen, Sorta OoC for Control's Characters, Written pre-release of Control, certain amount of dark and angsty stuff, sort of alternate universe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-26
Updated: 2020-08-08
Packaged: 2020-09-28 19:34:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 22
Words: 73,095
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20431295
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tyrion_Dragonsoul/pseuds/Tyrion_Dragonsoul
Summary: Jesse Faden got used to her new job as the Director of the Federal Bureau of Control and now heads the experiment on contacting the other worlds through anomaly typewriters. It leads her to the missing writer Alan Wake, who asks her to find the way to him and to help him getting out from the Dark Place he is stuck in. Jesse agrees, unaware that her decision will cause huge disasters around them and change their lives forever.





	1. Foreword

**Author's Note:**

> Please read the following lines very carefully, for they contain important information about this story.

Hello to everybody who found their way here.

We – Katerina (@seacat2401 on Twitter) and me, Alessa (@alessassoul on Twitter) – welcome you to our little madness: a Crossover-Story about Remedy Entertainment's new game "Control" and their previous installment "Alan Wake".

Please note the following: This story has been written **_waaaay_** before the release of Control. To be exact, we wrote it in the time from 19th July 2018 – 8th August 2018, based on the information we had at this time.

Honestly, this information was not much, we only knew that:

  * The Federal Bureau of Control (FBC) is a federal agency that deals with all kinds of supernatural and unexplainable stuff
  * Jesse Faden (portrayed by Courtney Hope) will be the protagonist, who is appointed Director of the FBC and the Oldest House; she wields "a special gun" that is of changing shape (later this gun was revealed to be called the "Service Weapon") and has the ability of levitation and telekinesis, as well as a rainbow-colored aura which she can set free on her will
  * The Oldest House is the evershifting headquarter of the FBC and based in New York. The "Core" is one of the Oldest House's sectors and considered to be the safest part of it.
  * The Hiss is the supernatural antagonist and seeks to cause destruction within the Bureau to break free from it into the real world.
  * Zachariah Trench was the former Director and died before the start of the game; his essence haunts the Oldest House and serves as a "guide" for Jesse, who can talk to him.

This is all we had back then. But at the same time we wanted to keep this story of ours as much true to its essence as possible, so we decided **not to change anything of our original storyline just to align it to the Control Canon for the sake of continuity.** As a result there surely **_will_ **be inaccuracies with the final game of Control. Please keep this in mind for the whole time when you read this story, don't say we did not warn you! =)

A final disclaimer that seems to be more than obvious: "Control" and "Alan Wake" belong to their developer Remedy Entertainment. We only borrowed every of the known characters to have a bit of fun with them, and we give them back unharmed after the end of this story. We don't make any money with this either, all of this was written just for fun and we do **not** wish to infringe any copyrights! The only copyright we have, is the one of our own ideas that do neither appear in "Control", nor in "Alan Wake". 

And now, have fun with our story. We hope you like it, and would appreciate any feedback. Cheers!


	2. Prologue I

**~Chapter 1~**

It was one of the very rarest days when the Oldest House was calm and silent. No changes, no squeaks, no sudden passages into completely different places of the building. Same was going for people around here, too. Calm and silent. Today passed without any incidents, but the eerie feeling about that unpredictable creature still crawling somewhere in the House was hanging in the air.

Jesse Faden happily believed for the best ending for this dying day. She was about to leave her office, when two agents intercepted her at the exit.

"It works, Director! It works! The typewriters, one of them caught the signal!"

"Lead me", Jesse said and they three went through the long corridors, stairways and halls to the Core of the Oldest House; they hadn't even walked far when Jesse already heard the loud ringing noises that echoed the whole sector of the Core.

It started long before she became the Director of the Federal Bureau of Control, just like many of other cases goaled to solve certain mysteries. This experiment with different types of typewriters seemed to be one of the most promising ones. Several typing machines, connected to the beyond, ghostly worlds, were supposed to catch any calls from the souls of the dead or alien beings. If only they'd wish to rouse a call to the simple livings, of course.

This day has come.

Jesse pushed the experiment room's heavy doors open, smiling slightly at the small crowd of people that had gathered near the center of the room, and when she stepped closer to them, she saw it.

One of the typewriters was typing all by itself, as if an invisible person was sitting in front of it, pushing the keys down. The letters that appeared on the paper didn't make any sense; they seemed to be typed randomly. Yet when the typewriter reached the end of the line it changed to the next one all by itself.

This wasn't any error within the machine... a soul or a being that was operating it from beyond was exactly aware of its own actions.

"It's number 1509", said one of the agents watching the typewriter's keys clack. "I just knew it that it should have been the first one to show signs of life."

"Oh, you really _did_ know, huh?" Jesse smirked and sat before the table with the possessed machine. "Did you guys calculate who the typer is?"

Meanwhile the typewriter continued to write on its own. More and more random letters appeared, but after a moment real words were within all the mess:

_"Trapped"_

_"So long"_

_"Can you hear me?"_

Jesse gasped. These words are definitely **not** random. There is something behind them, something intriguing and pretty complicated. And there is someone sentient on the other side. Who could it be, though?

She reached the keys and carefully - almost fearfully - pressed the space bar. And then, the typewriter stopped, like in shock from the stranger touch.

She sighed, looked at her faithful agents - don't you show your weaknesses to them, you are strong, Jesse - and typed the answer.

_"I'm here. You've been heard."_

For a few moments the typewriter stood still, seemingly abandoned from the other side, but then - very slowly - it started typing again. More random letter combinations appeared all over the page, until finally one clear sentence was among them:

_"Repeat. Message is not readable."_

"What the fu--", escaped from one of the agent's mouth, but another waved his hand to make him shut up.

"Shh! See? The signal must be weak, nothing strange about it, right, Director?"

Jesse shrugged without replying and typed again.

_"Your signal is weak, we're doing everything to save it. Who are you? Where are you speaking from?"_

_"Still not readable. Repeat. Who are you? My name"_

The typewriter switched to the next line, but it had already reached the very bottom of the page, there was no more space for any more words.

Realizing it, Jesse hissed, searching for more paper with her eyes.

"There! Give me extra sheets! Go, go, **_go_**! I don't want to lose the contact!" she yelled impatiently, nervously clapping her hands, and as the typewriter was refilled with more blank pages, Jesse started typing once more:

_"It's a fresh space for us to speak now. Tell me who you are and I'll tell you my name right after"_

Again the typewriter froze still and this time it took even longer until it started typing again:

_"Can you hear me?"_

Jesse sighed and looked back at her agents.

"Guys? Could you please... stay back from me as far as possible? I seem to suspect your auras and thoughts are interrupting the signal"

"B-but Ms. Faden…?"

"Did you hear me?"

"Mm, fine, fine, Director, as you say..." the agents turned away a bit upset but they walked to the door and stayed near it, watching Jesse from afar.

Jesse nodded with a slight smile and turned back to the typewriter. Then, she leaned her left palm to the carcass of the machine to protect it from any more disturbances and continued typing with her right hand.

_"I can hear you. Now you should hear me better. Repeat your name so I know it works well for this time."_

A moment passed until the typewriter formed the response:

_"_ _Better, but still difficult to read. My name is Alan Wake. I'm a writer. Who are you?"_

Dear God... That missing writer who has been gone for several years and nowhere to be found? The most of people believe him to be dead.

Alan Wake, the typer from beyond, for real? It can't be!

No. Hell no. Technically, it still **can be!** Everything is possible. Especially if he's truly dead.

Or not?

_"I am Jesse Faden, the Director of the Federal Bureau of Control. You've probably never heard of us, but we are the ones who investigate the crimes with clear supernatural presence. Mostly secretly from citizens, though. So where are you now?"_

After Jesse had written the last of her words, the machine once formed an answer, but with each word the machine typed slower, just as if Wake had trouble to write them.

_">Bureau of Control<... Wanted to reach you... must warn you... our dimensions have been connected... Beings will come....I call them >Taken<.... they can't be saved.... Fight them with light..."_

Wait a bit... what?

"_Don't you want to say that you **knew** of us? Where are you? How can we find you?_" wrote Jesse, but the connection seemed to grow weaker; it took more and more time until the typewriter had finally written the answer to her questions.

_"Trapped.... beyond… D̷͘͞a͜͜r̶̕҉̸ķ̴ ̶͟͢͝͏P͏l̴̴̨͟͢a̷̵͝ç̢͟͏e̸͘͞ ̕ … B͏̶͞r͢͞i̢̨g͘͘̕͠h̛̕͠t̸͠ ̕͞F̶̡a͟͠͞l̨͜l͏͘҉s̴̴͟"_

Jesse squinted her eyes to identify the final words, that were only hardly recognizable, but then she gasped again.

"Guys, search the main archives! Bright Falls, the Dark Place, the Taken ones - any mentions, any recalls, find them! Hurry! And bring flashlights with you, just in case!" she yelled to her agents and they obediently fled away from the experiment room with panic screams and shouts. Jesse stayed alone... and if this all wasn't already enough, the power of the Oldest House failed and all the lights went out.

Great, just great!

She found a barely working lantern in one of the closets, as she sat back at the table put the lantern near the typewriter to better see the page's content, another line had appeared:

_"Can't reach. Are you still there?"_

_"I'm here, Mr. Wake!"_ she wrote rapidly. _"Trying to save the connection. Stay there, we mustn't lose each other now!"_

_"Running is… useless… They'll find you… Fight them… with light… Burn the… darkness… away"_

What is he mumbling about? Why doesn't she have to run, anyway?

_"Wake, the place I'm in is safe from any danger. There is no threat for us in here." _Not speaking of the Hiss, though, she thought. But that's just a terrible accident they are up to eliminate._ "__Tell me how we can get to you!"_

_"Not safe anymore. He knows, and she knows too. They'll come soon. Be prepared. Fight them with light."_

The typewriter stopped for a moment, before it switched the line again and wrote a final sentence:

_"Trying to find a better point of contact."_

After this, the machine went silent for good.


	3. Prologue II

** ~Chapter 2~ **

"Wake..." Jesse whispered and quickly pressed the space bar several times to regain the contact.

Nothing. The typewriter remained unresponsive, as if nothing unusual had ever happened.

"Goddammit!", she hissed in disappointment and hit the desktop with her fist. Such a high promising case and it slips away? She didn't want to lose this precious signal anymore. Such a mystery right on her nose, such a destiny to be reshaped!

Alan Wake, the living secret with lots of dark rumors and unproved information about his last days in the world - he contacted her to say something important and, most probably, to let people know he still exists, he still lives in his own way. And as it was **her** whom he contacted, so now it's up to **her** to play along with him, to find him and to bring him back into the world of livings!

And still… who is >he<? Who is >she<? What about those he called >the Taken<? How did this all fit together?

The fire of curiosity lit up in Jesse's soul. And she was not going to let it fade. She's in the case.

Suddenly, a weird sound – nearly like a terrified scream – shook Jesse from her trance.

What... what was that?

Having stood up, Jesse took the lantern with her and bared her special gun to reach the door being well armed. Somehow the room around her became even darker with each of her steps and something strange was floating in the air like black smoke, yet it didn't smell as smoke, but definitely like... **evil**. Jesse pushed the door with a knee and froze on the threshold.

Everything was drowning into blackness, which flowed like water, like it was alive. Instead of the habitual corridor with lots of doors, there was a long twisting passage heading to something shiny in the end.

Jesse nearly forgot how to fear and wonder from the uncontrollable changes of the Oldest House. The Oldest House doesn't move its walls without reasons and these walls' whispers were calling her to follow

"What do you want to show me, my dear House?" Jesse said quietly and made a slight jump to activate her supernatural powers and levitate into the air. Curiosity always wins on her battleground after all.

Shooing the smoke away with the light of her lantern, she floated through the dark passage to follow it to the very end, until she reached a long mirror that almost covered the whole wall. Jesse landed near it, and the passage slowly changed into small room.

The mirror before her seemed to be like any other at first, only showing Jesse's own reflection. And yet there was something suspicious about it, something that couldn't be caught with a first glance. She leaned her palm to the cold glass and started waiting. No matter for what. Just anything.

And after a moment, suddenly something appeared on the reflecting surface. It was a handprint, but there was nobody who could've caused it.

Jesse startled, but just a bit. Everything has a reason to be happening, she kept repeating for herself. Everything has a reason...

She moved her hand to lay it on the spot where the ghostly handprint had appeared and noticed with a little surprise that this part of the mirror was warm to touch, forming a sharp contrast to the coldness of the remaining glass.

After another while there were fine lines appearing on the mirror, right next to her hand; slowly the lines started to form letters – one after another – that seemed to be engraved into the glassy surface: _"Are you there?"_

She opened her eyes wide, and her body shivered for a second.

"I'm here", Jesse whispered. The mirror partly sweated from her breath and its surface became even warmer when more words appeared:

_"I must be certain that it's you. Make sure for my own safety. What's your name and what's mine? What did I tell you before?"_

"I'm Jesse Faden", she said louder. "And you... you're Alan Wake, aren't you? Can I see you?"

_"You will, but first answer the last question. I must make sure. What did I warn you about? What did I tell you to do?"_

Oh dear, this will certainly go far, Jesse thought.

"The Taken… Fight them with light..." she said without thinking.

_"Exactly…"_

In the same moment this single word had appeared the others started to fade, and Jesse lowered her eyes in disappointment.

That was it? Just a small mind game and now it was all gone? But no, no it couldn't be. Wake wouldn't have talked to her in first place without a reason… right?

"I'm here, Ms. Faden", said somebody right next to her ear. "Look up."

Jesse's heart jumped inside the chest from this calm voice among dead silence. She lifted her head and her eyes got caught by the reflection of a black-haired man with blue eyes who was standing next to her. He wore a black hoodie with a green jacket and a tweed coat on top and a faint scar covered his right temple, as if he once got a heavy hit there. She instinctively turned around to face him, but Wake wasn't there; his image was only visible in the mirror.

"I've finally reached you..." he whispered with a glimpse of a smile on his lips and when he lowered his hand, the handprint on the mirror faded away; the spot where it had been almost immediately became cold again like the rest of the glass. This sudden change scared Jesse deep inside, yet she tried to hide it, keeping her palm leaned to the surface of the mirror. No, impossible to hide these contrast feelings that seized her now. The comprehensive curiosity remained untouched, but something has changed. This man was so full of deep sadness and hopeless despair that somehow she felt all of this, too, for some seconds. And it was enough for her. This poor man needs her help, and she will be there for him.

"You may not know me, Ms. Faden," said Wake after a moment of silence, "but let me tell you I'm not a lunatic. And I'm not dead either, no matter what people say about me."

"I believe you", Jesse said. "I believe. But tell me, what happened to you?"

Well, she wasn't really interested neither in his books nor in his personality until he disappeared and all the country was speaking only about him.

And now... now what? What can he see in this red-haired young woman in leather jacket from his side? Friend or foe?

"That's a long story, Ms. Faden. I'll give you the summary, but even this is almost impossible to believe," answered Wake.

"Huh, I'm not that easy to be surprised. I've experienced lots of events that ordinary people would, too, call impossible", she said, and when Wake sat on the ground, Jesse decided to stand further, leaning more to the mirror and watching him from above. "What's this Dark Place you're in, how did you even get there?”

"The Dark Place is a reality existing next to our own," said Wake and slowly looked up, observing her very closely as if to detect the slightest change within her features. "It's not like the world we both know, Ms. Faden. It's a shifting place, always flowing, always in motion, it doesn't stand still. I don't know how or why it works the way it does, but it takes appearance from the very memories of the people trapped here. It's not easy to describe, it would look entirely different for you than it does for me."

"And... how have you ever managed to send the signal to me?"

Wake didn't answer to this question. Instead he stood up and reached for something unseen, before he sat down again. After a moment a blue object got visible in his hands, appearing right from thin air.

Another typewriter! That makes sense. Jesse was eager to know how it worked in a supernatural level... alright, she'll ask it later, she should better focus on the more important details now.

His place is always in motion... just like the Oldest House. Despite of everyone in here knows what tricks it's able to bring upon them.

"I wish I knew how to help you now", she finally admitted. "But I'm afraid I still have to learn much more things about your situation, and I don't even know what to start from!"

Wake placed the typewriter on the ground in front of himself. For a moment the expression on his face seemed to switch to disappointment, but only a second later it was already gone again, perhaps it was only a thing Jesse had imagined.

"It all began with a trip to Bright Falls. A little town in Washington State, but it's as murderous as it is quiet. I lost the memory of a whole week there, only later I learned that I was held prisoner by something called the >_Dark Presence_<. This evil entity makes everything and everyone to its bloodthirsty puppets, you must be careful when you investigate."

"I _will_ be careful", Jesse assured him. "But you're still there? After more than five years? How are you still alive?"

"Seems I'm lucky that the Dark Presence keeps me alive as long as it needs me" Wake shrugged with a glimpse of a smile, but suddenly he raised his head in awareness, looking around nervously as if he was afraid somebody else would watch him, and as he glanced back at Jesse, his face was tensed.

"I can't stay long for now", Wake said, and his reflection slowly started to fade. "He becomes aware of what I'm doing. I'm not alone in here, you know?"

"No-no-no, don't go!" Jesse kneeled before his pale reflection, and when her palms flickered with the barely seen aura she has, Wake smiled a bit more openly, even though his face still remained tensed.

"I knew it was the right thing to find you," he said in a whisper, and he placed his hand on the mirror's surface again, just like at the beginning. "One more thing: If you meet someone who looks like me, talks like me, and is dressed in a suit like some sort of businessman... just run! It's not me and you can't fight him, not even with light. Did you understand, Ms. Faden?"

Just then, another image flickered inside of the mirror, far behind Wake's own reflection: it was a man that resembled Wake like a twin - the only difference were the clothes they both wore - and his image was visible for just a split second, before it vanished again.

What the hell? Did she just see it what he said or... Jesse frowned in doubt, then looked back at Wake and nodded, but he didn't seem to be satisfied with that gesture.

"Did you understand, what I said, Ms. Faden?!" he asked again in a harsher tone. "He's the Herald of Darkness, you **can't** fight him. You must stay out of his way! He'll kill you, or even worse!"

"Yes, yes I did!" she said quickly, trying to get a better glimpse at what was happening on Wake's side. What is going on...? Somehow he was keeping their connection strong, but Jesse felt it gradually weakening. No matter how he managed to make it at first place, really, but sooner or later, she will know this, too, and even more.

"Please, don't fade. I won't be able to always keep in touch with you, but believe me, I would do everything to help you", Jesse said, this time quite calmly, yet she forced herself to be calm. "But what if I don't meet you next time? I'm afraid to lose your signal. Then, you won't be here anymore?"

"I have nowhere to go. I'll always be here, until he or she kills me," said Wake and he looked over his shoulder nervously, before he pointed at the typewriter in front of him. "Type something anytime you want. I'll find you, don't worry."

Wake's reflection flickered more and again his twin appeared behind him, but he was much closer now, and it took longer until his figure vanished this time.

"Remember what I told you, Ms. Faden!" Wake repeated in raised voice, almost shouting at her, while his reflection kept fading away. "Fight them with light, burn their darkness away before you shoot them, but don't try to fight **him**! Be careful when dealing with the Dark Presence!"

And then there was a loud splintering sound to be heard and when Jesse looked up, she spotted a single large crack that had formed on the top of the mirror. Black smoke poured from it while it ran across the glass and when it reached the very bottom, the mirror became dull and clouded.

"Wake? Wake! Don't go!" Jesse yelled at the mirror, more of steam stains from her breath have covered its surface. But he was already gone.

Jesse stood up, and her hands went trembling. She hoped he's right, that she will succeed to contact him again even after. And this new unnamed feeling inside her, somewhere in between curiosity and fear, was pushing her forward – she **will** contact him again, she will help this poor soul to get out of his hell, and Lady Luck will be on her side.

While Jesse stood in front of the mirror, partially frozen in terror and half lost in thoughts, suddenly something strange rang in her ears, a noise that sounded odd and somehow… wrong. Like a faint, yet malicious laughter. She removed her hands from the surface and looked around. She must have misheard...

Just then, the alien voice chuckled again. It was almost inaudible, still it seemed to echo from all around with no source to be found.

Was she imagining things?

No, she's wrong.

Suddenly the temperature around Jesse decreased, making her breath crystallize in the air. The flame of her lantern flickered in the coldness, and when an icy breeze rushed through the room, almost extinguishing her only source of light, even the last glimpse of doubt was erased from her mind.

Someone's here.

Jesse shivered and grabbed her gun closer, waiting for this someone to come nearer, trying to locate their exact position. Her heart was pounding heavy. No, she won't run, she's not a coward. Whoever it is, she will meet this being face to face.

Having raised the lantern to shed some more light around the room, she noticed a faint silhouette in the corner of her eye, but it was nothing more than a flickering shadow, so weak that she might have only imagined it.

Then, suddenly, the door of the room opened all by itself and there was the sound of footsteps to be heard, yet nobody was there who could have caused them.

"Follow me, if you dare..." whispered a familiar voice, while the sound of the footsteps slowly disappeared into the corridor Jesse came from, away from the mirror, away from the light.

What the…? It can't be Wake this time, he's gone! And yet this voice sounded just like his…

"What do you want?" she cried out.

"You'll learn soon enough..." whispered the voice again, even more distant now.

Jesse sighed - what else should she do? - and followed that someone who dared to challenge her.

"You're very brave… that's impressive… but also foolish…" whispered the voice and when the sound of the ghostly steps got audible once more, there were also glowing footprints appearing on the ground.

"That's for me to decide what's foolish", said Jesse in impatience, walking after the footprints that lead her further and further down the corridor. It was a much longer way than the one that had led her to the mirror in first place, and the door ahead also looked different from the one of the experiment room; the Oldest House obviously had changed its architecture again. Realizing it, Jesse snorted, half in defeat, half in anger. She was slowly getting sick of these little mindgames. "Tell me what you need!"

"_What I need_...", echoed the voice mockingly. "I'm no spirit you can give something to send it into the light..." Just then, the flickering shadow appeared again and walked right through the closed door as if it wasn't even there. "Come inside, and meet me face to face. That means... if you're no coward..."

"I'm _**not**_", she insisted and, accepting his challenge, opened the door.


	4. Prologue III

** ~ Chapter 3~ **

The room beyond turned out to be Jesse's office. It was dark in here, but even when she flicked the switch, the light never came on. Yet no light was needed at all for her to see; every detail was clearly visible even in the darkness.

Black smoke crept across the walls and floor and ceiling, it was the very same that Jesse had seen in the experiment room before, the same that was leaking from the mirror when it broke apart. The framed photograph of the lighthouse that hung within the office along with many others had been ripped down from the wall; it laid on the ground, its image facing towards the floor, with glassy shards scattered all around it.

And on top of Jesse's desk sat a black haired man in a suit, holding onto something that looked like a kitchen knife.

Despite his eerily familiar appearance there was no sign of warmth laying in his blue eyes and he smiled sinister smile at her while he absently tracing his thumb across the silver blade of his weapon.

Oh no. Is that…? Is that Wake's _'evil twin'_ who he was talking about? Jesse forced herself to wear her mask of calm again. She must not allow to show any weakness. Not here, not now.

"Nice to meet you..." she said in a tough voice "… _the Herald of Darkness_?" she added after another moment, trying to figure out if he really was whom she suspected him to be.

The man smirked more and lowered his head a bit to imply a nod, but he still didn't put his knife away.

"You have a wondrous House here, lady", he said instead. "It wasn't easy for me to get here in first place, yet alone navigate through these ever shifting walls… it took a little time, but it got way better when I learned the pattern, though."

"Huh, feel welcome, then", Jesse played along. "But you better be careful as the House is currently inhabited with, uh, pretty unpleasant creatures... So?" she came closer, still holding her gun, and threw away the extinct lantern. "You wished to meet me? Just like Wake?"

">_Unpleasant creatures_<?" he raised an eyebrow, still smirking and looking straight into Jesse's eyes. "That sounds fun. Tell me more about it..."

"You should have learnt of it yourself if you have this _'pattern'_ of yours", she raised her voice a bit and shrugged. "But this is not what you came for, right?"

"Perhaps it is, perhaps it's not." He shrugged too, but kept smirking. "Why do you care? It's none of your business anyway. Just stay out of my way and everything will be fine."

"I haven't even started!" said Jesse. "If you mean your business with Wake, this is _my_ business now. He wanted me to help him, and I accepted his request."

"I _know_ he asked you to help him. That's no news for me, lady."

Jesse saw his smirk fading a bit, instead a serious expression appeared on his face. "But what I don't understand is the _how_ and the _why_. How did he manage to set up the connection? It shouldn't be possible... Why did he reach out for _you_? And why _now_ after all these years? There's a reason for all that, but I do not know it. It's nothing personal, y'know? Just curiosity... As long as you stay out of my way and don't annoy me, everything's alright. Otherwise... well..." He raised his hand to trace a thumb across his own throat and his smirk returned. "I think we understand another, lady..."

"Yeah, of course", she said squeamishly. "Same goes for me. _Just curiosity_. I wonder about his connection, too, though. And believe me, neither myself nor my agents will harm you if you don't hurt us first. So yes... I got you", and she waved her gun like a sort of toy.

"I'll try my best to spare your agents." A slight chuckle escaped from his lips, but when his eyes rested at Jesse's gun his fingers tightened around the knife he still held. "You'll better tell them that they shouldn't show their guns towards me like this. I can react a little... _allergic_ to these, y'know? They might be dead before they even realize what happened."

Jesse instinctively wiggled her hand.

"Can I have your word? The Oldest House is pretty huge to be aware of everything going on in its every corner. That's the reason we still can't find that... that _creature_ we're searching for. Give me the word you won't mess up with anything in here!"

"Sure I'll give you my word. The more important question is... how much do you give on it? I know what Wake told you about me, Director Faden. >Evil Twin<, >Supernatural Powers<... but actually you don't know _anything_ about _him_. You'd be shocked if you knew... There's no reason for you to trust him more, than you trust me. Will you judge rather by what you are _told_ by what you _see_ yourself?" his fingers tightened more around the handle of the knife, then a dark twinkle flickered through his eyes.

Jesse cringed her teeth in a fake smile. "Then let me find out to know it all. Let me _know_ him so I _have_ that reason to trust him or not."

"Sure, you can _know_. But I won't _tell_ you. Yet I won't stop you to investigate either. It would be boring if I told you everything, right? You wouldn't believe me anyway if I did, so you better _see_ for yourself… But let me tell you one thing: if the Hiss – that's the creature's name, isn't it? – if it attacks me, I won't hesitate to kill it. That goes for everyone in here that acts hostile to me in the slightest way." Having the eyes still focused at Jesse's gun, the man gnashed his teeth and his knuckles turned white as he grabbed his knife even closer. "Put that gun of yours away!" he suddenly snarled with a voice cold like ice. "Right now or you'll regret it!"

"Hey, hey, chill!" Jesse lowered her gun a bit. "We don't want troubles, right?"

"You're the one causing trouble! Put it away I said! Right now!" He raised his voice, almost shouting at her, and within a second he jumped down from the desk, still holding the knife tightly. "Your gun won't be of use anyway; I'm not like you humans, I can't die! Not _**here**_ and not by _**your**_ hand! You'll be the only one to be hurt in here!"

She had to step aside; never had she seen anything like this before, it was as if someone or something had flicked a switch within his mind, and she could swear that she had just seem a dark twinkle flickering though his eyes. The walls of her office squeaked a very bit, yet stayed the same.

"That's it!" she hissed back. "I _can_ be hurt and you should see I must protect myself whatever it takes. Like you said, I don't know anyone of you two. Who knows if..." and she swallowed the rest of what she'd like to say.

">Who knows if<what? End this sentence of yours, Director!" There it was again, the dark twinkle she had seen before, she did not imagine it! The black smoke on the walls and floor stirred, then the room seemed to become even darker, much darker with ever step he came closer. "Get your gun out of my sight and everything will be fine. No need to worry. If you try to shoot me, your bullets will rebound, they might even hit you, you can't protect yourself with it. Put it away! That's my last warning!"

"You don't know my weapon", she shook her head, stepping away from him more and more. "I've dealt with thousands things like you. Don't provoke me, just calm down and, and—"

"I'm not one of your ordinary lunatics! You can't hurt me with your human weapons, _Director Faden_." He harshly cut off her sentence, pronouncing her very name as if it was a deep insult, or something that should be eliminated right on sight. He quickly covered the remaining distance and grabbed Jesse by the collar of her jacket, pinning her against the wall. With a gasp of surprise Jesse's fingers loosened from her gun's handle; it fell on the floor and rolled a few feet away, leaving her not only unarmed, but also completely defenseless.

_Shit!_

"Let me go!" she snarled, struggling against him to break free, but it was no use; his grip was way too tight, how could anybody that was not possessed by the Hiss have such a physical strength like he does?! And again her glance slid to the gun lying on the floor. If she could only reach it—

"I warned you, but you didn't listen", he hissed right into her ear, his voice cutting through her thoughts like ice. Shivering she looked back at him and in horror she watched how his eyes got darkened once more by that strange glimmer… and how he raised the knife. "Now you must bear the consequence."

For a moment the silver blade seemed to switch color to black, then he brought it down towards her chest, stabbing it deeply into her flesh, damaging skin, muscle and bone alike. "Stay out of my way, if you don't want to suffer worse!" he hissed again, and as he pulled the knife back, not only blood dripped from the wound it left behind… but flickering shadows as well. They mixed into the flow of red, and a burning pain rose within her chest, it was unlike anything she had ever suffered from before.

Then, finally, he let go of her and Jesse hardly fell on the floor. It hurts... hurts unbearable, it hurts! She crawled to the gun lying nearby, holding for the bleeding wound. It's not right... she can't die like this, she must live! Why it doesn't stop hurting?!

The walls... she heard them moving, crying, shining by themselves through the veil of blackness, but the office was still... dark! And everything around her smells like.. like blood.

The suited man walked back to the middle of the room and as he raised his hand the darkness around grew stronger, drowning all light that tried to emit from the walls. Then he sat on top of the desk again and once more he smiled in his sinister way, watching Jesse's struggle "Just let go, Director, don't fight it, it's useless anyway."

The walls shined again, weeping as if hundreds souls were immured in them. They kept moving, changing the surroundings. Yet something was wrong, something was... not real, even for the Oldest House.

"I won't... I... You shouldn't..." heavily breathing like an ashore fish, Jesse crawled further and finally reached the gun.

"You're not able to kill me, Director Faden. Try it and see your bullets rebound," he still smirked mockingly and when he opened his arms to dare her shooting him more dark flows spread around, floating in the air, crawling on the walls, seeping into the very wound on her chest. "Just let go. It's easier that way, believe me, I know."

Jesse aimed the gun at him, but then, a sharp pain seized her and she screamed, the room was rapidly losing its shape and colours and soon she was seeing nothing more around her. She dropped the gun and trembled on the floor, searching for any glimpse of light in the distance. Darkness, blood, this sore wound, it shouldn't have ended like this, there must be light somewhere - where are all the lights?!

_And the air got sliced with the thundering voice: "Ms. Faden!!"_

"See? I told you, it's not that bad." The man's voice echoed from afar, but he was nowhere to be seen. "Tell your agents what I said about the guns and stay out of my business, then none of you will be hurt." He chuckled again, and his voice seemed to step away even further from her, fading away into the distance—

"Oh by the way... My name is Mr. Scratch. You might want to remember it."

—and finally, another wave of darkness crashed down over her, drowning the remaining glimpse of her consciousness.

"_Ms. Faden!_" someone screamed right at her ear.

Jesse jolted up and sprang back from the floor... and then she rested away, realizing that she's safe and being held in her agents' arms.

"Ms. Faden, thank God! We were afraid you won't wake up."

"Oh shut up, you namby-pamby! Director, what happened to you? Do you remember who knocked you out?"

They were in the experiment room... All the lights were on, everything was on their places, and these two acted like she was found unconscious.

Wait... so it all was... merely a dream?

She looked down on her chest. It was fine? No trace of blood or darkness or the stab wound.

"I... was called? Something dragged me into the sleep which I couldn't resist to. I was... dreaming of that writer. It was so real. I didn't even notice I was dreaming..." she tried to explain what happened, not just for these guys - mostly for herself.

Just then, something appeared at the wall right next to all the typewriters. There were words in edgy capital letters and it looked as if they were scratched into the very concrete with a sharp knife: "STAY OUT OF MY WAY"

"What the…! Holy shit, what's that?" said one of the agents and walked to the inscription. "First the typewriter, now this?"

Jesse finally woke up from the last fetters of the dream and stood up stoutly and confidently.

"It's not Wake if you ask me." She said, and she walked towards the wall as well. Kneeling down next to it, she observed the inscription closely, tracing a hand over them. This 'dream' surely wasn't anything she had imagined, it had happened just like she recalled it, and these edgy letters were the proof of it. "I'll tell you what I saw. And I would bet with you guys, this case requires an extensive investigation, but the information we're going to find must be very, _**very**_ promising", and no more fear remained in her soul, only curiosity - nothing will stop her. "This is our challenge, guys"

And this is her personal call.


	5. Prologue IV

** ~Chapter 4~ **

That's how it all started. Now the Bureau had a new problematic case fallen on their heads along with their main issue of the current time - catching the Hiss.

There passed hours...

_"Ms Faden! This is interesting!"_

...days…

_"These are the archive files from that Riverport Incident. We thought we lost them!"_

...and weeks of the huge investigation, which actually should have been held by FBC a very long time ago. If only Jesse had known before where it would lead her to.

_"Here are the photos. See, someone left these very weird theory writings on the blackboard, it's in one of lecture halls in the Riverport University. They are all about Alan Wake, our possible Typer-from-Beyond! This theory is very suspicious, allow me to say..."_

It's a hint! From him? Yet they're written like he was in doubts of his own actions... God, this writer's ghostly presence is going to haunt her forever if she doesn't finish what he caused.

There was more than enough for the first push.

'Madness', 'Reality', 'timeloops', names and questions, mentions of Wake's 'dark side', Wake's wife, some strange poet she's never heard about… so much to start from!

"_This House of Dreams_", huh? Her fellow agents found out that it's the title of the blog created by a certain Samantha. No difficulties to find her and this very house she was writing about. The Bureau knows their way...

"I knew it you would come!" said the young woman on the doorstep, welcoming the agents.

"You knew? How come, may I ask?"

"Oooh, that's easy!" Samantha let them in. "You must have read in my blog about my, haha, strange dreams and visions. Someone might have been interested in them, huh?"

For a while, she left the agents sitting in the kitchen and came back to them only when she brought an old-looking shoebox with her.

"Unfortunately, it's empty now, only a few pages remained. But, you know, I wrote it all in my blog and..."

"Tell us more about your dreams", asked one of the agents. "Whom have you seen in there? What do you dream about this time? Have you seen something else, more than you've written about?"

Suddenly, Samantha's face changed when she glanced at the agents' badges.

"It was you..." she dropped.

"Excuse me?"

"It was **you**! I've seen you in my dreams just recently!" Samantha said loud and clear, full of confidence. "I've seen you coming to me. FBC!" she looked closer at the one of the badges, her voice downcasted a very bit. "B-but it wasn't FBC in my dreams. Can't say why and what it means... You've been wearing the badges saying AWE…"

Now goes this guy. Jesse heard some rumors about this man being friends with Alan Wake, but no one still could prove their acquaintance as no one from public ever saw them together. Once again she would have sent her guys for this meeting, but Jesse decided to pay him a visit by herself. She believed he would need a... modest woman company.

"I truly can't imagine to myself how I can help you after all these years, Ms. Faden", Max said and took a sip of whiskey. "I barely knew Mr. Wake and I doubt very much I can be useful for you."

"Hope dies last, right?" Jesse smiled, sitting before his desk as if she's the one being questioned and not her current person of interest. "And it was you, Mr. Payne, who became the prototype of Alex Casey for Mr. Wake."

"Is that so important? That I am quite a part of his books, so to speak?"

During the past typewriter sessions Wake managed to assure her that his writings keep the very unique kind of magic within themselves, making his - and not only his own - fantasies come true. And Jesse smiled again:

"It's important more than anything else."

Meanwhile, several FBC agents travelled to Bright Falls, mentioned by the writer from the beginning. This trip proved lots of Wake's words that left the agents more than satisfied about their researches. But there is always a fly in the ointment. The inhabitants were friendly while chattering in many silly topics but very taciturn when the talks were leading to Wake. They couldn't say much of importance.

Yet the inhabitants of the neighbor towns spread rumors that several witnesses saw him alive, carelessly walking far away through the woods. With a knife. Nothing but rumors.

Speaking of witnesses, though... The other guy was very hard to be found. But he saw that very blackboard in the University. That guy caused lots of troubles, including his participation in the Riverport Incident, and only a miracle and the protection of the Monarch Corporation saved him from getting in jail. The Bureau has been heard of him cooperating with Monarch, but this information was yet to be proved. And it was pretty difficult to do it these days as he was gone from their sight for more than two weeks.

Yet in the end, Jesse's guys finally found him. Jack Joyce was his name. The time lord. And also a big fan of Alan Wake's books.

Jesse's agents invited him in the "public version" of one of the Bureau's offices and promised not to disturb him any more in exchange for any information about the missing writer.

Shame, he didn't see the one who wrote the theories on the blackboard. Neither could he say if he's ever seen him face to face. However...

"I want to talk to the Chief Investigator!" he suddenly yelled. "Or whoever heads the investigation!"

"Don't complicate things, Mr. Joyce, please. The Director is too busy to waste the time on something doubtful", the agents stopped expecting something worth from him, but he insisted.

"I have something only she must know."

She? No way he could know the Director is a woman!

The agents surrendered and called Jesse via phone. She didn't make them wait long.

Jack's expression quickly changed as she appeared in the interrogation room. He seemed to look like he has been knowing her for many years. And this funny man with a smiling baby face was definitely up to something.

Jesse slightly frowned. "What did you want to say to me?"

Jack was smiling in confusion, moving his head left and right as if wishing her to recognize him.

"I've seen Mr. Wake. Several times, on TV screens. No, not on TV programs, but on the turned-off screens! I've seen him very different from that shows. Once he was calm, even sad, looking at me as if trying to break through the screen like that creepy girl from _The Ring_. But then, after that, I saw him holding a bloody knife, and there laid a dead body under his feet. And these two pictures of his image were switching before my eyes. And they were real! I wasn't imagining, I swear!"

The more Jack talked about it, the more Jesse shivered from his words. Jack was yet another person whom Wake tried to reach to! Or they both just were in the right place and… in the right time?

"Time..." she whispered, then raised her voice and gave an order. "Guys, get him out of the building, now!"

"I didn't do anything!" protested Jack when the agents grabbed under his hands.

"Don't mind it, it's for your own safety, Mr. Joyce," said Jesse strictly, "Before you go too far to mess in our headquarter with your _**time** _powers. And thank you for your cooperation! I mean it", she added back over the door more softly.

"But I'm not intending to... I just want to...! Jesse!" Jack screamed from the corridor, being dragged to the exit. "You should _**remember**_! If you need my help... Please! Just call me and I'll be back! _**Jesse**_!"

His screams dissolved in far silence as the agents forcibly made him go away. What a strange guy, yet so pure, so honest. Leaning to the wall, Jesse slid on the floor and covered her head with palms.

This is madness. A total freaking madness!

She was so tired of it all, of talks, of theories, of people, of all this impenetrable smoke around the mystery of Alan Wake...

Well, at least she had something new to tell him at the new typewriter session. He was a tough interlocutor, yet she was messaging him everything she finds worth to discuss with him. And to find the way to help him survive in beyond the reality.

Just one more call to his world should be enough for her to go on further and deeper into this mystery to finally reach its end one lucky day.

She always stands her ground. And she always wins.


	6. The Darkest Hours I

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I truly apologise for the delayed update, but there were some things getting into my way that prevented me from posting this new chapter any earlier. The next updates will be more regularly, I promise!
> 
> Also, a small warning: from here on things are going to become quite weird and crazy. That's why we used to call this story "our little madness" in the foreword.  
But we promise that it all will be resolved in the end, so please don't kill us ^^  
As always each of you who read it is welcome to leave a feedback in the comments.

** ~Chapter 5~**

"_It's not a lake, it's an ocean._"

That's what Jesse found on a strange page left on the floor – a snow white sheet with nothing else on it apart from the pitch-black typewritten words.

There still was the experiment with different typewriters in the Core-Sector, it was definitely from there. She was already heading into that direction anyway, so she might as well check it out.

The door of the experiment room came closer with every step and while a part of her slightly wondered who might have typed the page, the other already knew.

When Jesse went inside, ringing silence crashed on her for a moment. Until one of the typewriters – a very old one, labelled with number 1509 – started typing by itself. Slowly but steadily, the keys were clacking within a specific rhythm of their own, just as if they had been waiting for her to arrive.

It was for her. Someone wanted her to be here, to read the message. As the typewriter stopped typing, she walked closer and suddenly the solid awareness of who the Typer was came to her.

Wake.

Several weeks have passed since she last managed to talk to him using the possessed typewriter and she already feared that she might have lost his signal for good, but now, after such a long while of silence, he found her again. Just like he said.

The page Jesse took from the typewriter was full of words that didn't make sense together; it was like as if he tried to turn visions of insanity into words before forgetting them. But there was something between the lines; a message, very clear and understandable, and it was for her:

"_Meet me in the dream._"

Jesse traced her fingers over the page. The words were written in the same black ink, but unlike the page she had found before, these letters were strangely glowing within the dim twilight all around. This was new. Did it mean that Wake had just succeeded to loosen the Dark Place's grip around himself, even if only a bit? Or maybe it was someone else who had typed them?

Lost in thoughts, Jesse failed to notice that the air around her slowly changed, becoming even more darker than before. But then, suddenly, a loud noise tore the silence apart, shaking her out of her trance.

Jesse spun around in awareness. She felt like she's being watched, but there was no one to be seen. Again the loud noise sliced through the air; it was much closer now, sounding like an explosion or a loud crack of thunder, and it seemed to come from outside, from an area somewhere beyond the safe borders of the Core.

And then she remembered what Wake had told her often before.

_Fight them with light._

So stupid, though. Light never killed anyone she has been meeting for all the years as she deals with the things from beyond.

But the Writer is special, he knows what she **_doesn't_**, yet she's eager to know, to learn even more from him, not only about the Dark Place he was prisoned in, but also the things he haven't told her yet, like about how his writing is able to change the world around him or – more importantly – how he managed to survive after all these years.

So, what if he's right?

Having glanced one last time towards the typewriter, Jesse walked a few steps away to reach the switch on the wall... but the light never turned on.

Another blackout? Damn, this wasn't good, not at all; the power of the Oldest House has never been as unstable as in the last weeks. She silently hissed and quickly approached the closets that were piling up on the walls, opening them to search inside.

_Where is any flashlight in here?_

Just then, the doors flew open, hitting the walls behind so hard that it caused the concrete to crack. Once more Jesse turned around and backed away into the shadows when she saw a black haired man dressed in a suit dashing inside.

"Get away from me you weirdo!" he yelled, seemingly meaning whatever was lurking outside. He raised a hand and dark sparks flew away from his fingertips with the very noise of thunder she had heard. The doors of the experiment room slammed shut and only after they got covered with shadows that seemed to be alive, crawling across the concrete and metal like ink that had been dropped into water.

"Be gone, I said!" he yelled again, flinching hard and taking a few steps back from the door as something heavy crashed against it from the outside. "I'm not your midnight snack!"

Jesse slowly reached into her jacket and aimed at the man with her special gun. What the hell was he doing here? Within the last weeks the Bureau had increased the security protocols to prevent surprising visits like these, how did he get in without them knowing?

Having noticed the slight movement behind himself, Scratch turned his head a little to acknowledge her presence.

"Hello Director, so we meet again", he said but there was something wrong about the slight chuckle that followed his words… just as if he was desperately trying to hide away his fear? What kind of monster could be outside if even the Herald of Darkness was afraid of it?

"Yeah. Nice to meet you", said Jesse, still with the gun aimed at him. She stepped a bit closer, just enough to fully reveal herself from the shadows, but still kept a good amount of distance between them, waiting for the explanations.

She didn't forget what happened when they had first met another. She should make him pay for the pain he caused to her, he would've surely killed her if they had met in reality! Still, for some reason she hesitated to pull the trigger, yet she didn't lower her weapon either, for it was the only way for her to defend herself.

"Oh come on, we're long past the inconvenience to have a gun between us, don't you think?" Scratch raised his hands as if to surrender, his fingers were covered in blood. "Also, you wouldn't attack somebody who's unarmed and already injured, right? That's rather _my_ style, Director, not _yours_..."

He tried to sound mockingly, but Jesse didn't fail to notice the nervousness that shook within his voice.

_Weird_, she thought. He had lost his nerves back then when he haunted her in her own dream, stabbed her, and now he didn't even react at all, despite he was threatened with a gun.

But he just said he was injured. Perhaps – she looked at the blood that was scattered all over him – perhaps he was just too injured to snap again? There was only one way to find out.

"Is that your blood?"

She shortly flicked her hand to point with the gun on his still raised arms, only to aim it back between his shoulders almost immediately.

"Seems so, doesn't it?"

Finally, Scratch turned around to look at Jesse, carrying a clearly forced smirk on the lips, and she saw that he did not lie to her: There were bleeding cuts all over his face and almost every inch of his former white shirt was stained with a red that looked way too fresh to be the blood of an unfortunate victim.

_What the hell…?_

"Who's outside?" she asked toughly, successfully hiding her confusion, and lowered the gun a bit. "Tell me who's there!"

"It's your little friend and it's really angry", Scratch lowered his hands as well, and walked over to the nearest desk to sit on the ground. "No surprise, though. I would be angry too, if I was locked away for so long", he added, and almost like a response to his words there was a loud roar was heard from the outside, coming closer with every second.

">Little friend<?", she said with a slight frown. "I don't know what you mean. Who is it?"

But Scratch didn't answer. Instead closed his eyes, seemingly focusing on something.

Jesse observed him in suspicion – what is he up to?

After a few moments a weird glow formed all over his body, and Jesse's fingers tensed around the grip of her gun; she was ready to aim it back at him within a second, but there was no need to. The glow soon faded away again, and all that remained were a few faint shadows that covered the cuts on his skin as well as the wound on his chest, reminding of a translucent band-aid.

Jesse shortly blinked in surprise. She had never seen anything like this before… also Scratch's behavior was still so strange, such a contrast to how she got to know him… And this unknown danger lurking outside… was this all even real?

Or was she dreaming right now?

Scratch snorted mockingly.

"No, you're not dreaming, Director, _this_ _time_ you're not."

How... how did he hear her thoughts? Jesse startled on the inside, yet at the same time she forced herself to remain calm to not let him see her nervousness about everything that was happening right before her.

"Still surprised that I can read your mind?" A smirk formed on Scratch's face, but he kept the eyes closed. "I can also mess with it if I want to, there's not much effort in that."

"Then how should I know you're not messing with me now?" Jesse snarled on him.

"I'm sorry to disappoint you, but right now you're not my priority. I have better things to do than to play my mind-games with you." He hissed slightly while his wounds patched themselves up. And when the former steady flow of blood slowed down until it faded away completely, he opened his eyes again. "Just let me give you an advice: you should get the writer here and let him fix this mess. Better sooner than before it's too late."

"I don't think he is _that_ powerful", Jesse said in doubt. How should she do it anyway? Even after that much time she had spent talking to Wake through the typewriter, she still was no closer to pull him out of his prison.

"He has more power than you think, even here. But alright then, suit yourself, don't say I didn't warn you. Just don't blame me when your little friend rips everything in here apart."

Jesse shrugged and walked to the door to lean her ear to against it, shivering when the coldness of Scratch's shadow barrier crept into her skin.

"You still didn't tell me who's out there", she said, trying to hear any voice from the other side, maybe even the one belonging to the writer, while she watched Scratch with the corner of her eye. What can be so horrifying that _you_ run away from it?"

"You don't get it, do you? What a fool you are!" He suddenly stood up and within a few seconds he had covered the distance between them; he harshly grabbed Jesse at the shoulder, and for a moment she meant to scream, to shake him off herself, but all he did was pulling her away from the door. Just then, another loud roar cut through the silence, and once more something heavy crashed into the shadowy barrier; slightly cracks formed all over it and Scratch winced like he got an electric shock. "It's the Hiss, Stupid, how can't you know!"

"The Hiss? Why the hell haven't you said that before!" She turned around and grabbed Scratch's wrist. "_It_ is the one I'm already hunting for since so long! Open the door, let me out, let me kill it!"

"I know you do, I _know_! But you can't face it now!" snarled Scratch angrily and freed his hand forcefully from her grip, pushing her away from himself, "That bastard mirrored my powers and almost killed me, do you really think that _you_ will stand a chance against it?! Don't get me wrong, I appreciate your decision to kill, but now is not the time unless you want to die yourself!"

"I-I... I..." Jesse fell into frustration. The Hiss, her main goal, her long-awaited prey was so near, right behind the wall, she only needed to reach it and…

And suddenly, she looked up, when the typewriter started typing again. Scratch raised his head at the typing noise as well.

"Just about time, Wake", he said and approached the typewriter, leaning against the nearby wall.

Jesse quickly put a page into the machine. And as it stopped ringing with its keys, she took away the paper sheet—

"_Can't reach you, but danger is all I catch from your side. Trying one more time._"

—and she sighed – no matter how he knew, but the Writer sensed them. >Trying one more time<? Trying what?

"Trying to break through of course", Scratch took the page from Jesse and smirked. "The Hiss must've used my powers to create a barrier between this reality and the Dark Place. I usually do the same to stop Wake from sticking his nose into my business; it's no surprise that he recognizes it." Handing the page back, he slid down the wall to sit back on the floor and closed his eyes again; there's still the dark glow on his wounds, but it slowly started to fade away, as did the shadow-barrier on the door. "We... we just need to wait, but I can't stop it for long now... hurry up, writer..."

Jesse touched the letters on the page and her fingers got darkened with ink. She knew that the Writer is one of the more special kind of humans, a person who can handle some of the most powerful energy in the universe, no matter what they really are. She had to admit to herself that she would truly like to know his powers more, much more than she already learned from him. But now... now she must wait for his help. And not get killed. And if Wake dies for her, she'll blame herself forever.

"Oh stop that sentimental thoughts, they're disgusting!" Scratch snorted mockingly, keeping his eyes closed and seemingly focusing to hold up the darkness on the door; after a moment, the wounds on his face and chest broke open again, and the barrier started to crack even more, emitting black smoke that dissolved into nothingness. "Wake won't die, he's the _protagonist_ in his own stupid manuscript! He'll be fine, don't worry."

"You think so?" Jesse aimed her gun at the door when a new roar filled the air, and it sounded much different from anything she had heard before when encountering the Hiss, much more powerful and much more furious than it ever was. "Everyone is the protagonist of their own story."

Scratch didn't answer on that. But when he finally spoke, his voice was not more than weak whisper.

"Your… your gun is no use", he said and the barrier cracked more. "The Hiss is even stronger than before, y-you can't fight it."

"Hush, I must do just anything when it comes for us, right?"

"Y-you can. Hide yourself and try to r-run as soon as you… as soon as you get the chance."

"I can't hide just like that, I want to fight! I want to..!"

And her voice was interrupted by a loud explosion of energy between them and the door. Scratch yelped painfully and his barrier shattered completely, dissolving into bright sparks, yet he still raised a hand to throw another darkness towards the door, but it was only a faint shadow, not even that. Dark and rainbow flows mixed up in the air, and with them there was a blinding flash of light, that took all sight from them; all Jesse could hear was Scratch's screaming voice that rang within her ears: "Run! It's your last chance, don't waste it!"

Jesse stepped back but fell on the floor. Out of an instinct she raised her gun and made a shot into the direction she suspected their foe to be… But, thankfully for them, it wasn't the Hiss who evoked the explosion.

As the mist of dirt calmed down and started descending down on the floor, she saw a black-haired man lying on the ground among the shards of concrete, barely conscious, wavering with his hand like trying to reach something.

"Uh... Wake? Wake!" Jesse lowered the gun and jumped to her feet. Ignoring the dizzy feeling that crashed down on her, she slipped towards Wake and grabbed him for the jacket. Damn, the writer was heavy!

"H-hey!" she called over a shoulder towards Scratch, "A little help here?!"

There was no answer.

Jesse silently cursed under her nose, and she wanted to scream bad insults towards him, but they got stuck in her throat when she turned around; dark red blood kept dripping from his wounds, no sign of the former translucent band-aid remained and the Herald's chin had sunken to the chest; he had obviously blacked out when the barrier had been torn apart. Wake hadn't regained consciousness either.

She was all alone now, with two knocked out men that were no help to her, and the Hiss was still somewhere crawling within the corridors, more powerful than ever before. But at least it didn't seem to be near them right now, surely the aura of Wake's sudden appearance had scared it away.

"Oh damn, oh damn, oh shit!" she whispered and picked Wake up one more time to drag him inside the experiment room.

_Keep calm, Jesse, freaking out won't help, not at all!_

Having left Wake behind the table with the 'possessed' typewriter, she rushed back towards the door and barricaded it with another table.

_Fight them with light, _she recalled his words_, burn the darkness away before you shoot them…_

But will it still help, now that the Hiss made use of Scratch's powers? It was worth a shot, though, she thought. She'd rather die trying than cowardly waiting for death!

Where's this damn flashlight?! It's gotta be somewhere in here, she remembers it!

She tore every of the desk drawers open, took files, pens and paper sheets out from them and threw them on the ground… nothing. Not a single sign of any source of light.

"Dammit!" she hissed under her nose and gripped her gun harder, ready to aim it at anything dangerous in any moment. Her eyes shortly came to rest on Wake. If she loses him...

She was just about to run over to the cabinets across the room, when a strong hand grabbed at her wrist to make her fall on knees.

"I'm fine. I'm fine, don't worry", whispered Wake loudly and her heart made a slight jump inside of her chest.

"Wake! Come on, we have to—", she tried to stand up, but Wake pulled her back down.

"Shh, don't go! Don't go, he may be here. Take this", suddenly Wake foisted Jesse something big and heavy, something that somehow looked like…

"Is that... a dynamite? Are you...? I'll kill the entire place over, not only the beast!"

"Better this way than getting killed, right?"

Something reminding of a smile appeared on Wake's face and he took a huge flashlight out of his jacket, before he peeked into the room from behind the desk, and his eyes narrowed when he spotted Scratch, who still hadn't regained consciousness.

"That bastard, I knew it was him! I'll distract him, you'll blow the cylinder and shoot at him. That'll give us time to get away."

"N-No, listen, Wake, listen! It-it's not…"

But Wake didn't pay any attention to her; he had already stood up and aimed the flashlight towards his twin. For a moment nothing happened, but then Scratch winced hard like from another electric shock, gasping as he came back to senses.

"What the hell—?!" Scratch raised an arm to shield his eyes from the light that was shined upon him. "That's… that's rude, Director, put it away!"

Despite not being the one responsible for the light, Jesse grabbed at Wake's arm and pushed it down.

"I just meant to tell you, it's not how you think, Wake", she said strictly. "He is… kind of okay for now? At least he tried to help me defending this room against the Hiss."

"Really?" asked Wake in suspicion, but he saw the determination in her eyes as she nodded. And she was showing no signs of mind manipulation either, he knew how to spot it, he had encountered it more than once back in Arizona. "Alright, alright, I believe it", he said eventually and – having lowered his flashlight even more – he focused on his twin. "But don't think I'll forget what you did!"

"Of course not. You're not a fool after all. An idiot, yes, but not a fool", said Scratch with a snort and lowered his arm to look at Wake, smiling a bit. "Your flashlight still seems to work. You don't have a spare for the Director by chance? She shouldn't be left without light either."

Wake shook his head and when the flashlight started to flicker, he smashed it against his palm to restore the weakening beam.

"Damn, I should've taken some batteries with me…"

"How about these, Writer?" Scratch took a couple of batteries from his jacket and threw them over to Wake clumsily. Wake caught them in surprise, and when he looked at Scratch, he smiled. And his smile was honest.

_Here is the miracle illuminated_, shined inside Wake's mind. And he said: "Never before had I expected _you_ to be on our side"

"Sometimes Miracles **_do_** happen, eh?" Scratch smiled back, but then closed his eyes in pain again. "Don't try to trick me though, I know that you thought that it was **_me_** who attacked her... but it wasn't me this time, I swear. This bastard mirrored my powers and used them to get even stronger..."

"Forget that. At least for now. We still need another light."

"It _has_ to be here somewhere" said Jesse, having watched them for a while. "If I could only remember where I put it…"

"Well, I can help you with that", said Scratch with a slight chuckle. "But it won't be nice, I tell you."

Jesse took a deep breath and – looking straight into Scratch's eyes – she nodded. "Do it."

Wake shook her shoulders: "Y-you can't agree on that, who knows how it will affect you later?"

"I assure you, I've dealt with lots of unexplained stuff, I can handle this. It will take eternity if I start searching for it. So do it, I'm ready."

Scratch looked back at Jesse and for a moment something, that would've been concern in another life, reflected in his eyes "Then come over here. I…" He tried to stand up, but failed, slumping back to the ground. "I can't move."

Jesse kneeled before Scratch and as she gave him a hand, his fingers closed tightly around her wrist.

"Don't say I didn't warn you", he whispered and laid his other palm on her forehead. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath at the sudden coldness that seeped into her skin.

Her childhood, her life before she came to the Bureau, her days as the Director of the FBC… all these and even more images flickered brightly and rapidly through her mind, when Scratch searched through her memories. But there was something else stirring within her, something that lay deep beneath dark clouds of oblivion, something that had not long ago and that she didn't seem to remember. She frowned. What could it be? But before she could even give it a closer thought, it was gone again; seemingly Scratch had stepped away from this buried memory, deciding not to go any further into it.

A few more moments passed until…

"I know where it is now!" Jesse screamed out loud and an invisible energy push rejected Scratch's hand from her forehead.

"Go get it, then" Scratch quickly let go of Jesse's other hand. "And don't get yourself killed back there, you hear me?"

Wake wanted to say something, but seeing Scratch like this provoked way too many contrast feelings in his mind. It was so much **_not like him_**. Like, at all. The Herald was always determined to kill him, his friends, Alice, and innocent people along the way, and now… now he seemed to be a whole different person. Was this only another trick, or…

His train of thoughts was stopped by Jesse who... what is she doing, why?

"Keep it for a while, I'll be right back! Shoot immediately if you see it coming!"

Her gun? Wake opened his mouth to refuse, but Jesse insisted.

"I say, take it. I _want_ it to be in your hands. Come on, it's yours for now, I will go".

Well, he lost his gun a while ago in the Dark Place, yet Jesse's one is so... strange. Wake turned the gun around in his hands for a few times, observing it closely from every angle. Looks like some kind of Lego. Pretty interesting thing, but what can it really do?

Scratch looked after Jesse for a moment, but then he turned to Wake, watching the writer's movements for a while without any word.

"You're not going to shoot me with that thing, right? I didn't do anything wrong this time", he said eventually and even though his voice sounded quite nervous, there was a strange expression laying in his eyes, something between fear… and desire?

"You won't be killed today, don't worry", said Wake, having caught Scratch's glance, and kept watching Jesse's gun transforming, playing with its edges on its own. "I don't even know how to control this stuff."

_Yet I'll try to_, he thought. Wake sensed the presence of evil very clear. Not much time remained for them now; they must be well prepared, if only what they had will be enough to win this… As he changed the batteries, he looked out from his hideout and prepared to point Jesse's gun and the flashlight's ray in what's about to appear from behind the damaged walls.

"_Not today_... I'll take your word on that."

Scratch sighed as if he was disappointed, and tore his eyes away from the gun; he raised his hand again, and faint shadows filled the cracks of the wall, reinforcing it, despite just a little, before he turned his head. "You better hurry up, Director. Your buddy will be here very soon, and I'm not able to slow it down a second time."

"Oooh! I found something... hold on..." The gasping voice of Jesse reached them from the other side of the room, yet it was too dark for them to even catch the edges of her figure.

And then, there was another explosion, much stronger than the one that had shook their surroundings when Wake arrived. The ground and walls trembled like from an earthquake, the deafening noise of thunder tore the air apart, black sparks scattered all around, leaking into countless flows of darkness that became larger and bigger with every second passing… and suddenly one of them snatched Jesse's ankle, lifting her upside-down into the air.

She screamed in surprise and shock and just before her fingers loosened around the thing he found, she managed to throw it into the writer's direction.

Wake caught it; it was a starlight projector, like those night-lights for children, but it was bigger and without a star stencil.

"Scratch, hide!" he yelled and – having flicked the hidden switch he found – the room filled with enormously bright light coming from the round projector, not a corner of shadows remained.

"I can't even stand up, Stupid, how should I hide then?!" Scratch shielded his eyes and hissing at the light, yet it strangely didn't hurt as much as he expected, it didn't even burn him.

"Oh shit!" yelled Wake, having forgotten about seriousness of Scratch's injures – as he still tried to believe the Herald faked the most of it to make him empathize. Wake rushed to him and covered with the shadow of his own figure.

The Hiss roared furiously, visibly hurt by the bright glow all around, but it still held onto its caught prey, shaking Jesse around violently within the air.

Having felt the light becoming less intense, Scratch opened his eyes and looked around.

"There!" He suddenly yelled and raised a hand to point at something. "There it is, Wake, shoot it! Hurry!"

"Jesse, blow the cylinder", yelled Wake, "now!"

"Forget about the cylinder! It's a trick; it won't die if you only hurt its limbs!" Scratch kept pointing at the thing afar. "Shoot it, Wake, do as I say!"

And finally Wake looked into the direction Scratch was pointing at. But it was not the shadow that held onto Jesse's ankle. In the far corner at the other end of the room, hardly seen in the hurricane of light and darkness, there was a small something that looked a bit like an eye, keeping the distance between them.

"I can't stop it from transforming", Wake waved Jesse's gun, pulling the trigger a few times, but nothing happened, "I can't shoot! Hold on, Jesse, we..."

Suddenly the floor shook under their feet; the tables with all their content flew to the ceiling, and fell back on the floor, then ascended once more and started moving around, crashing into the walls, the bookshelves... and into the possible body of the Hiss. The Hiss still roared and despite being weakened and caught inside the gravity-field Jesse had created, it tried to recollect its power, breaking free more and more from its shackles with every second passing.

"Guys, do something!", she screamed and her eye widened in horror, when she spotted the eye-like thing that moved quickly through the air, slinking towards her – not even her powers seemed to be able to stop it!

"Give these to me, Wake! You're just too stupid to do it yourself!" Scratch snatched away the flashlight, but when he also reached for Jesse's gun, Wake pulled his hands away.

"Hell no, are you kidding me? I-"

"This is not the time, Wake!" yelled Scratch furiously. "Give it to me!"

Before Wake could answer, there was a faint whisper inside of his head.

"You're in control now (now)", it said, echoing like it came from somewhere beyond.

Wake wasn't sure if he had truly heard this voice, or if he only imagined it. But as he once more laid a finger on the trigger, a slight ray of light shined from within the gun. Something had changed.

Scratch saw it, too. He nodded at Wake and raised the flashlight towards the 'eye', and when it froze still, paralyzed the light shone upon it, Wake pulled the trigger.

The ear-deafening noise of a gunshot sliced through the air, and the Hiss screeched as the globe dissolved into bright sparks along with all of its limps; the shadow that had caught Jesse disappeared as well, and she fell hardly towards the ground, hitting the floor with a loud thud.


	7. The Darkest Hours II

** ~Chapter 6~**

"Ms. Faden!" Wake didn't think long and ran to her.

"I-I guess I'm fine, Wake. Before you ask. Just a few scratches, nothing I won't survive." She coughed through the floating dust, and when Wake approached her and kneeled before her, she smiled, wiping her forehead with a palm. "Wow, this was… quite a fight."

"It was", Wake mirrored her smile and he was about to give the strange gun back to its true owner, when something lightly brushed against his ankle. He jolted and turned around… but it was only his flashlight that Scratch had slid towards him across the floor.

The Herald had meanwhile managed to raise to his feet, clenching the remains of the nearest table to force himself to stand. He made a few unsteady steps towards the only thing that remained beside the damaged and still partly floating furniture – a small orb, black in color, but glowing as if it was shining with darkness from the very inside – but soon he fell back on his knees, shivering all over like from a serious cold. "Shit! Screw it, screw this all…"

Wake cringed and gnashed his teeth at seeing that. He gave the gun back to Jesse and left the light projector with her.

"Here, have it, too, you'll see how it help you", he said to her, picked up the flashlight instead and rushed to Scratch and the mysterious orb. "You… you're okay?"

"Sure, sure, I'll be fine", snarled Scratch with bitter, but trembling voice. "Not that **_you_** would actually care. I'm just _faking injuries_ to make you _empathize_, remember?"

Scratch tried to stand up again, just to fail another time. He sighed as his hands started shaking too, and he quickly crossed the arms in front of his chest to hide it.

Wake looked away. Hell, he hears him anyway. But after all the evil he had done and was intending to do to his friends... and Alice... it's not easy to let it go and just forget, like once he forgot that nightmarish week in Bird Leg Cabin. And now… now what?

"What's this?" saving himself from any further thoughts, Wake bended over the orb and shed a ray of flashlight on it, watching the little thing in interest when it glowed brighter and brighter. It swallows the light like a water flow... that's new.

"Don't!" Scratch's voice sounded alarmed and grabbed his own chest with one hand and Wake's arm with the other, closing his eyes and cringing from the burning pain that pierced through his body. "You promised to not kill me, still you try to! You're a traitor, Wake, I knew it!"

"Nnngh, I didn't do anything! Let me go!" Wake twisted his arm to break free but it was no use – Scratch's grip was that much tight that it started to hurt, but then… then it slowly loosened again.

"Stop it... the light... don't.... you promised... Traitor... knew it... They're here.... can't escape..." Scratch's words got more and more incoherent and consciousness faded away, his breath growing weaker with every second the orb was exposed to the flashlight's beam.

"Scratch!" Wake caught him fall and laid him down on the floor. "Goddammit..."

"Wake, that's impossible!" He heard Jesse's voice and then she came over to them, still holding the light projector, and the cuts and scratches on her face and hands were disappearing in the light it shed on her skin. "How can any light alone heal wounds? I –" she cut off her own sentence, seeing Scratch once more laying unconscious on the floor nearby that weird orb, and Wake's eyes shining quite strangely in the dimmed light. "W-What are you doing?"

"Nothing, I just…" Wake's glance was caught by small letters that appeared out of nowhere, floating between them and the orb with the clearly seen text: "_Keep it out of the reach of light_"

Damn, not now, not these puns again... but he understood the meaning of it, and switched the flashlight off in the very second the letters had appeared.

"Do you recognize this artefact by any chance?" asked Wake, when Jesse, too, hit the switch of the projector to make its light disappear and covered it with a piece of cloth she found nearby.

"Never seen it, actually", she said sadly and sat down next to him, placing the projector near her knees. This is her who must question, though, not him!

Sitting next to another in an awkward silence, they both observed Scratch for a while, and saw his breath steadying again after all the light around was taken away. After another moment he opened his eyes and glanced at the writer for a second, then turned his head away, looking into the distance.

"Well, better now?" asked Wake. Scratch nodded, before he sat up and looked at floating box first, then at the orb, still breathing heavily.

"Don't you… don't you do that again, writer."

"Alright, alright, I got it now!" Wake gnashed his teeth even more, looking at the orb. "So, what is it?"

At first Scratch didn't answer. Instead he just stared into the distance, his eyes were not focused on anything. But when his hands started trembling again he took a deep breath, as if to prepare himself of what he was about to say.

"When the Hiss attacked me, it didn't exactly _mirror_ my powers", he said eventually, but instead of the smug and confident tone that Wake hated so much, the Herald's voice had dropped to a quiet whisper that was hard to understand.

"It didn't copy them; it shattered them apart and claimed most part of them for itself, freeing me from the Dark Presence's control, at least for now. This… this **_thing_**", Scratch waved a hand towards the orb and its surface stirred a little, just enough to be noticed, "is what remains of the darkness's power… of mine. That's why I'm able to talk you with a clear mind, it would've been impossible if it was still a part of me. I hate it as much as I hate every single one of _Them_ but you saw yourself that I'm bound to it, Wake. I'm not able exist without it, not that I would've cared until today. But now that I actually learned what a >free will< is, I just don't want to give it up again. Quite pathetic, hm?"

Scratch sighed a little, then he raised his head and his glance shortly rested on the orb, before he looked straight into Wake's eyes. "Help me reach it, writer. I… I need to show you something else."

"You could just say it?"

"Sure, I could, but ask yourself... would you believe me if I just **_told_** you, or rather if you **_see_** it?"

_He got that right_, though, thought Wake. No way he would simply believe what he was told, not until he saw it with his own eyes. He nodded and laid Scratch's arm around his own shoulder, and Jesse did the same.

"Can I believe it's safe… for all of us?" asked Wake while they both helped the Herald to slowly walk closer to the orb.

"It is. At least for now."

Scratch sat in front of the orb, then stretched his hand towards it and despite he didn't touch it, its surface stirred again for a moment, but it was much more visible now, just as if someone had thrown a rock into calm water.

Jesse felt his glance resting on her for a while. Did he wish her to leave? But no, hell no, she's in this as well now. She, too, had a right to know the whole truth – if she could even call it like that; all these things going on between the two twins were so confusing, not even Wake seemed to have foreseen this – and she crossed the arms in front of her chest, silently stating that she would not leave.

"So you'll join us, Director... Alright, why not, it's not that **_this_** will be anything **_personal_**..." Scratch snorted mockingly and kept moving his hand across the orb, still not touching it and the rippled surface stirred even more: Suddenly moving images of past days formed inside of the orb, flowing into another like a broken film reel, until they came to halt and one of them got visible in the middle of the room like a ghostly hologram, using nothing but the thin air around them as a canvas to display itself.

_There was a young boy with black hair – maybe seven or eight years old, but the expression in his blue eyes was like from an adult who had seen way too much within his life. He was seemingly arguing with someone, as his face was covered with rage and anger alike, yet there was a trace of fear reflecting within his eyes. After a moment more and more details revealed itself from the blackness… it was not just anybody the boy argued with – it was an old woman in a mourning dress, her face not only covered by a veil, but also by the shadows that flickered across her features, distorting them._

"Wait a... what?" Wake gasped. "What the hell is that?"

That child... This is very much confusing to see himself – so little – in front of one he possibly hates the most, and to know it can't be him. How come Scratch would be a child? He, the one born from the shadows of the Dark Place and Zane's writing? And… and Jagger… why would Scratch argue with her, when both of them were standing on the same side, aiming for the same goal? So confusing…

"You know her?" asked Jesse. "What is this all about...?"

"Of course he knows her, she's the one who kidnapped his wife", Scratch smirked, but this time it was more a sad smile than anything else. In the same moment the image flickered, changing to black and white, before it started to fade away "Now shut up, your talk causes interference... just watch." He then closed his eyes and a few dark flows dripped from his fingers to the orb, stabilizing the image, and it switched back to full color.

_"You can't decide about my life and give me orders. You can't!" The boy turned around to walk away from her; his words and the sound of his voice was not fitting to his younger age; instead he sounded mature, just the way like he spoke in adulthood. "It's my life! **Mine**! I won't let anybody else decide about it, not you, not Them, nobody but myself!"_

_"You're an even larger fool than I thought, Scratch." A smirk formed on the woman's lips and she chuckled. "Your path is already set; do you really think this is any of your decision?"_

_Suddenly, she grabbed his hand, and when she pierced her long fingernails into his skin Scratch shortly winced, only barely fighting down a yelp of surprise._

_"If you deny your task, you're also denying your very right to live", she said. "You can't run away from your own fate! You either do as you're told, or you'll die, there is no way in between!"_

_"I won't follow your orders... Never!" said Scratch, but he didn't turn around. Instead he forcefully tried to free his hand from her, but the woman's grip was tight, way too tight that he could break away from it. "I-I just won't follow them, and **you** can't force me to! None of you lunatics can!"_

_"I can't force you? Let's see if this is true…" The smirk on the woman's face grew larger; she slightly raised her forefinger, and when she repeatedly tapped it on his wrist, a shadow formed around it – faint and flickering at first, but it got more and more visible with every second passing and Scratch whimpered from the burning feeling that seeped into his skin, cold like ice, but also hot like fire._

_"Say, Scratch", she continued, "what would you think if I turn you to a serial_ _killer? Don't worry about your emotions I'll erase them from you. No remorse, no guilt, no self-doubt... You won't even miss any of these pathetic human flaws, it'll be as if you never had them in first place. A brilliant idea, isn't it?"_

_"No, no! Don't! I-I…!" Scratch finally managed to twist his hand free from her grip. He turned around, his face was full of shock and fear, and he yelped loudly when the shadow on his wrist slowly crawled towards his shoulder, covering his whole arm with a weird glow that was bright, yet dark at the same time._

_It hurts, it hurts so bad, it burned him down to the bones, spreading through his veins, coursing within his blood… and without any chance to prevent it, bitter tears of pain and desperation raised into his eyes; he knew he had nowhere to run, nowhere to hide... not here at the Dark Place, she would **always** find him no matter where he went, and if she didn't manage to, **They** would._

_Then a naïve idea crossed his mind, and before he could give it a second thought, he had already said it: "K-Kill me instead, please!"_

_"Kill you? To let you just get away from this? I don't think so, that would be way too easy..."_

_The woman waved her hand and suddenly another shadow in the shape of a sword formed between her fingers. Within a moment that lasted shorter than the blink of an eye, she raised the blade and stabbed Scratch right into the chest with it, at the spot where his heart should be._

_Scratch didn't have the chance to move or even scream, only his eyes widened in shock. He sank to the knees, the shadow on his arm exploded into countless sparks, covering him from head to toes, and when they faded away, the child was gone. Instead there kneeled an adult man in a suit on the ground and the color of his eyes switched from blue to a bright red as the woman laid a hand on his shoulder._

_"You know what? I just changed my mind", she whispered into his ear, having bowed down towards him. "I'll make you a serial_ _killer, but your emotions will remain. It'll take another decades, but once the writer gets here, you'll murder everyone in your way until he hunts you down__. __It'll be way easier for him to find you when you're his enemy. If you manage to kill him before he kills you, you'll take his place and free us. If not, I will find someone else to succeed. Everyone is replaceable, Herald, even you."_

_The woman released her hand from his shoulder and her chuckle soon turned into a malicious laughter before she dissolved into nothingness, leaving nothing else than black smoke behind. Scratch, however, didn't move an inch. Neither did he say a word, like he was a frozen statue struck with muteness; only the sword within his chest glowed brighter and brighter with every second passing._

As the image within the air shattered apart, Wake looked up at Scratch and his eyes shined with regrets and even more confusion. What is the secret to conceal – he didn't want to choose what to think, but he couldn't bare it anymore. How stupid he had been to believe that Scratch was just all evil without any deeper thought or reason. He knew what the Dark Place could do to people, should've known better. But… but this? There was no way he could've known about all of that.

Jesse, too, couldn't decide what to think of this awkward situation. There is, indeed, a very special link between two twins. Yet these two are far away from being ordinary.

"You either believe it, or you don't, Wake, it's your own choice", Scratch glanced towards Wake from the corner of his eye, while his view stayed focus on the orb. "But this is the truth. I never wanted to be like that, I didn't _choose_ it. And your manuscript didn't make it any better."

He sighed again and when he lowered his head a bitter smile formed on his face "What did you say before, Director? >_Everyone's the protagonist of their own story_<? Not if your path in life is already set, not if you are an antagonist for the hero to defeat."

Wake surrendered to his overwhelmed thoughts.

"You always have a choice", he said and laid a hand on Scratch's shoulder. "If you give it a try, I can help you."

"I don't want you to pity me, Wake, I want you to understand!" Scratch snarled, tensing at Wake's touch, yet he didn't pull his shoulder away, but he didn't look up either. "I don't have a choice, I never had and I never will! It is my fate; I can't run from it, not even with your help!"

He gnashed his teeth for a moment and reached into his jacket to pull something from the inner pocket: it was the very revolver Wake had lost at the Dark Place.

"Stop it!" Jesse stood up and prepared her own gun to shoot – yet she didn't aim it at anyone. "Stop this nonsense immediately!"

"No rush, Ms. Faden. Don't do anything, this is only between us", said Wake calmly and solidly, but within his voice there were slight notes of fear. "Where did you find it?" he asked, looking back at his evil twin.

"I don't remember", said Scratch. "But when I found it, I was ordered to keep it and to shoot you as soon as I get the chance. But I can't... I don't **_want_** to."

"Don't move, Ms. Faden, I'll deal with it!" Having shortly but seriously glanced at Jesse, Wake slowly grabbed the barrel and pushed it down to lower the gun in Scratch's hands – even more surprised that Scratch let it happen without pulling the trigger or even resisting. He **_can't_** kill him? Ordered by **_her_**?

"Ordered by **_Them_**, Wake", said Scratch, answering to the unspoken question. "There are many more than just **_her_**. But like I said, none of Them have power over me right now..."

He took Wake's other hand and laid the gun into it: now the tip of the gun was pointed at Scratch, but he didn't seem to mind.

"Y'know Wake, I already stopped fighting against Their demands long ago", he said instead, and crossed his arms once more in front of his chest as his hands began to shake again. "I wasn't able to shake Them off, no matter how hard I tried. I saw no more use in resisting, I just hoped that you'll be the one to get me first. And it won't be a sin if I _ask_ you to do it."

Wake was startled. A few minutes, weeks, a whole eternity ago he was eager to banish Scratch from the entire existence, but as he listened to him right now, after what he heard and saw, his everlasting hate was gone. He was tired of hate. He was tired of fighting – and now his evil self, his sworn enemy was demanding to kill him with his own hands.

No, there was only one hate left – the hate to himself for the sudden trembling of his voice, which he was not able to prevent, no matter how hard he tried: "You… you're k-kidding me..."

"I'm not", said Scratch and slightly shook his head, the expression in his eyes was as serious as it could possibly be. "But if you truly need a _reason_ to shoot me, I'll give it to you."

He then reached for the orb and as he picked it up into his hands a strange glow radiated from it, crawling over his hands and spreading across both of his arms; the wounds on his face got once more covered with the translucent shadows, yet they were much stronger than before, and not only the dark twinkle returned into his eyes, they flickered with a trace of red as well.

Jesse couldn't say anything, neither could she move. Though, she'd say that she doesn't feel as much sympathy to refuse shooting any one of them in case of danger for herself. However, something crawled inside her. The feeling she always hides. How on Earth should she stay aside like that? She grabbed her gun closer, but before she could do anything, Wake had already taken action.

"I can't kill you with a simple gunshot, you know it!" he almost yelled as the shadowy flows continue spreading around. "I... not like this... Let it go!" Wake pushed the orb away with a foot, and Scratch winced like from an electric shock when the dark flows leaking from his fingers got cut off and disappeared into nothingness.

"You **_can_** right now!" snarled Scratch sharply, and he followed the orb with his eyes when it rolled away, yet he didn't make an attempt to go it. "You can also destroy this **_damned thing_** with light, you saw what it'll lead to. Or you both can just get the hell out of here and let me turn back into the monster I'm destined to be, leaving me the faint hope to eventually break Their influence. But you must choose, Wake, there's no way in between!" Scratch's voice got angrier with every second passing until he almost shouted at the writer, but then looked down and gnashed his teeth, realizing that he just repeated Jagger's words from decades ago.

"There's no other way, writer", he added in a whisper, "I don't see any. I just want this whole madness to end, no matter how. Still, wishes and hopes have a lot of power at the Dark Place; perhaps I will actually be free one day… Or we can just wait a little longer, then my problem will solve itself, but it's going to be nasty. If I have to die for this, I'd prefer a quick and painless death. It's the only thing I'll ever ask from you."

Wake stood up, looking over the destroyed room.

It wasn't even a thought – a glimpse of wish with no words in it, that's what Wake was given to catch in his mind, when he searched with his eyes for the typewriter.

Gotcha!

He pushed Jesse out of his way and ran to the floating machine that could bring him the last chance of it all. He can deal with it, just like he said. And just like Scratch said, he's the protagonist. And this is **_him_** now to decide what is to happen next.

Scratch followed him with his glance.

"Want to use the typewriter again?" he asked, smirking a bit. "It didn't really work before, but sure, try it; it might be different this time. I'll make it easy for you, I won't resist, but you should hurry up."

Wake wasn't completely sure of what he's about to do, nor was he sure about why. But maybe... maybe he was just tired of death. Trying to save at least Scratch's life would be a sign of redemption for both of them.

He grabbed the typewriter from the air to put it on the ground and – having pulled a piece of paper from his jacket – he started typing, quickly and loud, and the typewriter shined by itself, casting bright particles from its keys.

Scratch winced at this very sound he knew so well, yet hated so much. He knew that Wake was writing something – anything – to change reality around them, and he knew that it was supposed to help him. And yet he felt the sudden urge to jump up and knock the typewriter over, shattering it to pieces until there was nothing recognizable left of it, to snap the neck of the one responsible for this horrific sound. Not that he was able to move anyway, if he just wasn't that weak— but no! No, he told Wake he won't resist, so he wouldn't.

Scratch closed his eyes, clenching his hands to fists as he felt the darkness gnawing at his mind. It tried to regain control of him again, even now, even here... he had to fight it down, even if that was the last thing he did.

Jesse saw Scratch's movement and walked behind him to place the tip of her gun at his very nape. A slight shiver ran through his figure, but apart from that he didn't move.

"If They succeed... don't hesitate... promise it..." he whispered, hoping she would understand what struggle he was going through. How much strength it took for him to not give into the Dark Presences' demands, to resist against Their constant harsh whisper that once more rose inside of his head, after it had been drowned into wonderful silence until just now.

Yet he was close – too close – at the edge of losing this fight that could change everything. He felt his own mind slipping away, being replaced by the darkness that has always been inside of him and always will be, no matter how hard Wake – or anybody else – tried to save him.

"Shh..." she whispered, almost soundlessly and laid a hand on his shoulder. She knew, she understood and somehow she could feel his troubled emotions and thoughts, they flowed through her soul like they were her own. No need for her to say anything more, the warmth of her hand speaks instead.

She remained in the same position for a while, but then she looked up, seeing something appearing all around Wake and his tool:

>guilt<

>I failed<

>I'll never be free<

>keep the illusion, never reveal the truth<

>must stop the writer<

>kill him, take his place<

These weren't any words Wake had written, for they glowed in a faint red light instead of the bright particles of the typewriter, but still they seemed to be engraved into the very air.

From the corner of her eye Jesse noticed how Scratch cringed and once more grabbed his own chest. And suddenly – before she could even do anything – there was an explosion of a blinding whiteness, swallowing all the senses... and the darkness came over it.


	8. The Darkest Hours III

**~Chapter 7~**

"...can you hear me?"

Jesse felt like she was in the deepest slumber for the whole lifetime as she opened her eyes.

But there was no one in the room to say that.

She was still holding her gun, and some scars on her skin assured her everything she experienced was true.

She was standing still and the room she was in had no particular sign of the passed disaster. It was clean and ordered just like before everything happened.

What **_really_ **happened, though? Where was Wake? Where was his dark twin? And the typewriter... It was there, right on the table she first saw it. And there was an empty page – well, almost empty. There was only one sentence written above:

"_Can you hear me?_"

Jesse walked to the machine and changed the page's position on the next line.

Once she did it, the typewriter wildly started moving its keys, rapidly and violently typing. There was fear in this ink, rage, doubts, insanity and the crashing will of change, but these weren't words, only letters that had no sense – until it stopped with a finally clear sentence.

"_You can go now._"

"Where?" Jesse asked into the silence. She didn't expect an answer, no one was here to give it to her after all. And she was even more surprised when the typewriter started to move again. But this time not the random letter combinations appeared in first place; instead the machine was writing its message very clearly right away:

"_Get out of the dream, you are safe now, GO BEFORE IT TOUCHES YOU!_ _Type something, I'll pull you out! QUICKLY!_"

Suddenly, another sentence appeared just beneath the typewritten letters. This one seemed written hastily in sharp but narrow letters, a handwriting that seemed so familiar to her, despite she had never seen it before: "_Do as he says, hurry!_"

For a moment, Jesse just stepped away, scared of the typewriter 'screaming' at her. She was ready to swear she _heard_ it talking as it typed these letters. She _heard_ it speaking with Wake's voice. And with another one, pretty similar, yet slightly different.

And only after, there came a roar, one she's never heard before. It was someone... something much stronger than anything she had met before, way stronger than even the Hiss.

And it came to her, spreading dust and shadows in the room, making it hard for her to see, even to breath. But the noise echoing within her ears erased her freezing fear. Jesse rushed to the machine.

"_Let me out_" she typed back with trembling fingers.

She couldn't write any more than that – just like on command the floor disappeared beneath her feet and Jesse dropped down into nothingness. She called for her inner powers and the air around her flickered in rainbow colors, but they had no use as there was nothing she could hold for. She screamed in fear of falling, in fear of losing **_control_**, and she fell, deeper and deeper, until…

"Open your eyes", whispered someone nearby, a faint voice that was already fading away into the distance. Without even thinking about it, Jesse followed this command, and woke up to stare at a grey concrete ceiling. It looked different than usual, yet she was not able to say what was wrong about it.

So what is she safe from now, she thought in disbelief, recalling that scary page from her kind of dream.

"_You're safe from the Dark Place_", she got the answer that suddenly sparkled inside of her head, a thought that was not her own.

Or… was it? Had her mind just made this conclusion herself or did she know because someone told it to her?

It was so hard to think, everything was so dull and clouded and suddenly… suddenly the world before her eyes started to spin, making her feel sick into her very stomach. She found her gun near herself and – barely holding or her consciousness – she reached it like it was her last hope to stay alive. But it was not only the spinning surroundings that made her feel sick and dizzy, but also an unnatural smell that struck into her nose, like scourged wood and molten plastic… and it made her lungs hurt, as if rough sand was soaked into it with every vital breath she took.

"What a..." she coughed hard and hardly raised the head. Everything around her was burning. Broken walls bared the split rooms that also were desecrated with fire; the flames all around devoured the furniture, leaving clouds of thick, poisonous smoke behind that made it hard to breathe. "Wake? Wake!"

She tried to call Scratch, too, but as she opened her mouth again... she couldn't make any sound. She… she can't even name him.

Suddenly, a pair of hands reached for her shoulders.

"Get up, hurry!" whispered Scratch's voice next to her ear, while he pulled her to her feet. "And don't think about that dream anymore. Just don't..."

Feeling dizzy, Jesse stood up and leaned to the huge piece of concrete that once was a part of a wall. She raised her hand to fly up but her powers remained silent and speechless.

She coughed more and more from the smoke, pressing the hand to her chest.

_Need… need to get out... Whatever it takes..._

"No time to rest, we must go!" Scratch said, grabbing her hand to forcefully pulling her away from the wall**.**

"Ouch, dammit!" she yelled in pain, the glowing rainbow aura spread right from her body, and Scratch winced a little, but not much.

"That's the third time today that you try to burn me with your stupid aura!" he hissed to her and pulled his hand back. "That's quite rude, y'know?"

"I didn't mean to, I…" She looked at her hand and saw some more of her rainbow aura sparkling between her fingers, before it disappeared back into her skin. "It's... a protection. It's like an instinct of self-preservation, in the flesh. Sometimes I just can't control it."

The third time today, though? What the hell was he talking about?!

But before she could give his words a closer thought, Scratch had grabbed her by the shoulder again; yet this time he lifted her up to carry her in his arms, but his steps were unsteady just like before and he shook from the effort to carry her weight along his own.

"Pff, you don't have to", said Jesse and silently snorted. What an awkward sight it must be, luckily no-one else was here to watch it. "Please... let me go, I can make it on my own."

"So you… you're not injured?" asked Scratch and she could swear to hear a trace of surprise in his voice, when he set her down on the ground.

"Not as much that I can't walk", answered Jesse and as she stood on her feet she couldn't help but grinning a bit, and even more when she saw the confused expression on his face.

"Then go", he snarled after a second and pushed her out into the hallway.

Jesse kept looking around the burning remains of the experiment floor as they were walking through the long corridor among the smoke and flames. There was no sign of Wake's presence. At least, she couldn't find any little damn thing that would prove he's here. Or that he had ever been in first place.

_I wish Trench was here, like he was before_, she slightly thought. He was never completely leaving her until Wake appeared in her life. So strange. Perhaps Trench was just busy with other things happening within the Oldest House? Or did he disappear because… because he felt like he was not needed anymore, now that Wake was there?

Jesse sighed silently, and suspiciously glanced at Scratch, waiting for a snarky comment or at least a mocking snort, but he didn't even show the slightest reaction. Weird… maybe he just didn't care enough to read her mind right now? Better ask him later if the name of the previous Director rings any bells for him. He and Wake seem to know someone of the same kind, too, she remembered that the writer had once told her about a certain diver who guided him through the insanity of the Dark Place.

"Damn it, writer. You always disappear when things start to fall apart. I curse you, Wake…"

Scratch's angry mumbling shook her from her thoughts.

"I don't believe he left us on purpose", she said. "Or have you _seen _him going away? I thought so", she added with a smirk when Scratch slightly shook the head. "This is a shifting place, remember? Even us federals can be lost in here, what are you expecting? He must be somewhere else in the House."

"But where? It's too large, we won't find him in time, when we—" Scratch suddenly looked up, stopping to speak in the middle of his sentence. Without another word, he grabbed Jesse harshly by the wrist and pulled her behind the remains of a broken wall.

"Whoa!" She almost fell down but managed to lean to Scratch and regain senses to herself. "What the hell is wrong with you?" she whispered.

"Shhhh! Shut up!" His voice was nothing more than a harsh hiss and he carefully peeked from their hideout into the corridor. For a few moments nothing seemed to happen, but suddenly the temperature around them decreased, very unusual for the fact that parts of the building – and the very corridor they were in – was ablaze. Jesse still was holding Scratch's hands and she felt her gun pulsing in behind the bosom of her jacket, ready to pull it out any second.

_What could it be? What now?_

The smoke seemed to grow thicker with every minute passing, condensing like fog on a frosty morning in winter. The temperature dropped even more, making Jesse's and Scratch's breath crystallize in the cold air, and suddenly all of the fire got extinguished with a huge blast, turning the corridor dark within a second that lasted shorter than a blink of the eye.

In the same moment an old woman in a mourning dress stepped out of the smoke; thick, black shadows covered her figure, distorting her face every now and then, yet they were more than enough to illuminate her figure, and to make her clearly distinguishable from the blackness all around.

Jesse gasped silently. That very woman from the orb's visions!

No wonder why Scratch felt her presence so fast and – she glanced at him as he clenched his hands to fists and gnashed his teeth – why he's that much afraid of her. He broke her rules, after all.

What if she's the one who took Wake?

She unnoticeably revealed her gun from the jacket. And there's still a dynamite cylinder that Wake left for her! She should keep it in mind, too. For now, though, she didn't feel like she would need it, she only had one try after all.

Unlike with her gun. She slightly raised it, but before she could aim it at the woman, Scratch laid a trembling hand on top of the barrel.

He silently shook his head, and pushed Jesse's gun down without even looking at her; his eyes were still focused on the woman. But when she turned into their direction, he quickly hid himself behind the broken wall again, hissing almost silently at the burning feeling that rose within his chest, just as if a glowing hot needle had been pierced right into it.

He cringed at the pain from within that grew stronger and stronger with every second passing, biting his tongue hard to not make any sound. The bitter taste of blood filled his mouth and waves of concerns crashed down into his mind, flooding his thoughts.

What the hell was _she_ doing at the Oldest House? How did she even get _in_ here_?_

Had she seen him?

Did she know that the Director was with him?

And what about Wake, was she searching for him... or perhaps even the Hiss?

Right now he wasn't able to fight – neither her, nor the Hiss, and facing both of them together would turn into a disaster!

Jesse observed him with tensed face, clenching her gun closer, ready to use it if needed.

_If only..._

Thousands crackling sounds surrounded the corridor, getting louder and louder in every second and Jesse sighed in relief.

"The House", she whispered. It was changing. And soon enough the changes will reach them, too.

The woman must have heard the noise from behind as well. She raised her head in awareness and turned around. Moments that seemed like an eternity passed and when she finally dissolved into nothingness to take care of business somewhere else within the building, Scratch couldn't take it any longer; His knees gave in and he sank to the ground, yelping loudly and grabbing his chest with his hand – a weak and useless attempt to ease the destroying pain that burned inside of him.

"Hey!" Jesse worryingly kneeled near him. She once more tried to call him by his name, but she still couldn't dare to say it. "...Hold on, you hear me?!"

But he didn't seem to notice her. Instead he kept clutching his chest, breathing heavily and shivering all over; it took a long few moments until the shiver started to fade away again.

"It... it still hurts after all these years...", he whispered eventually, speaking more to himself than to anybody else. "I hate her... I hate her so much... her and all those that are like her... There must be a way… there always is…"

Jesse raised a hand and – having hesitated for a second – she carefully touched him at the shoulder. He winced slightly and when he opened his eyes to look at her, a small trace of surprise flickered across his face, just as if he had forgotten for a second that she was still with him.

"That noise...", he said after a moment, and turned his head a bit to look back into the corridor. "It made her leave... what was it?"

"I hear the walls moving, and it doesn't stop... Well, I think the Oldest House in on our side for now", she smirked, but then, a huge boom sounded in the distance, and the multiple cracking sounds became much more louder and aggressive – way, way different from how she expected them to be.

"...Oww. Not now, no-no-no", Jesse nervously grabbed Scratch's sleeves and strongly embraced him from behind. "I hope my power's fully back so I can hold you – **watch out**!"

The cubes of the walls spread around, joining each other into a gravityless hurricane, and as the corridor was collapsing, the floor opened up below Jesse and Scratch; they fell down into a long vertical tunnel that was dragging them deeper and deeper into the basement levels of the Oldest House.

Scratch closed his eyes and out of an instinct he moved his fingers a bit to touch the back of Jesse's hand, summoning a shadow around both of their wrists that would prevent them to get separated during their fall. He seemed not afraid of what had just happened, but in reality his thoughts raced: first the Hiss, then the embarrassing but needed reveal about his past, the struggle against with Wake's reality bending writing, >_her<_ appearance within the Oldest House... and now this?

When would this madness finally stop?!

He should've never come here in first place, what a stupid idea it had been!

But then he would still be under the Dark Presence's influence, hurting and murdering innocent people, fully aware of his own actions without any chance to control anything he did. Now he could at least make his own choices, either for the better or for the worse, so maybe… maybe it wasn't **_that_** bad after all…

Suddenly something shiny appeared down below them and it came closer very fast.

There should be the end.

Jesse took a deep breath and her gravity powers awakened from their slumber of uselessness. She straightened a hand and froze in the vibrating air right before they reached the tunnel floor, and Scratch quickly hung below on the shadowy link between them. He winced at the sudden stop of their fall, but when he looked down he quickly released the shadowy link between Jesse's wrist and his own to let himself fall down onto the ground.

Jesse, too, released herself from gravity resistance and gently descended next to Scratch.

This place, a sort of basement, was everything like the Oldest House – messy, pulsing, breathing, like a living being.

"Ugh, it's as creepy as the Dark Place, even more..." whispered Scratch as he looked around. "Where do we start…", he raised his eyes to the tunnel above, "and how do we get up again?"

"Maybe we don't have to... for now", said Jesse.

"Yeah, _for now_", echoed Scratch. He kept looking up into the tunnel and frowned when he heard a faint and already fading roar from above. "But we have to at some point, we can't stay down here forever."

"We must find Wake first, _then_ we get out of here! Well, _I_ let you get out. This is _my_ place, I must stay."

Just then the Oldest House moved once more. Its walls breathed again, changing positions, just as if it was answering toward Jesse's statement. Thankfully the House didn't change much – but it barricaded the tunnel she and Scratch fell from.

Scratch sighed and tore his eyes from the tunnel, glancing around to find any other way. And it didn't take long until the walls slightly shifted, revealing another corridor that opened up right in front of them.

"Let's go", he said, and nodded the new passage. "We should keep moving, I'm not eager to stay here until either >_her<_ or >_it<_ finds us."


	9. The Darkest Hours IV

**~Chapter 8~**

The lowest floor of the Oldest House was deadly silent while the Director and the Herald of Darkness were passing through. Well, the _former_ Herald, as he seemed to have refused his evil habits completely. The empty hall with nothing but huge hollow cubes looked safe for two escapers. But they had no right to chill out or to even take a second to rest, not until they found the writer within all this mess of nothingness, moving floors and shifting walls.

Walking quickly next to Jesse, Scratch gave her a short but piercing glance from the corner of his eye.

Now, that there was no direct threat for them, he finally came to think about it… Back when he searched through her memories to make her remember the location of her weird light projector, there had been something laying on her mind, like spots from black ink, clouding whatever was laying beneath. He had seen this kind of stained memory before; he had created a few of these himself while carrying out the Dark Presence's orders after all.

And the way she had behaved, the ignorance of what had been chasing him, the surprise that he was even here… it all made sense now; she didn't remember what had happened to them both before the Hiss attacked them, before Wake crashed into the Oldest House.

And he intended it to leave it this way.

There was a reason for this partly amnesia after all, and he was not the one to uncover it.

No need to stir up something that currently lay safely in the dark and didn't cause any harm. Dragging such a hidden memory back into the consciousness by force won't pass without damage, he knew that.

When the time comes, she would remember by herself. Hopefully it won't be too soon, though, he didn't hurry to have another heated discussion with her. Just leave it as it is, they had to find the writer first, then he could worry about anything else.

Scratch shortly shook his head to get rid of his current train of thought, and he looked around in silence to distract himself further from it. This place seemed so similar to the Dark Place, but at the same time it wasn't. Powerful supernatural forces resided in both of them, yet these were as different to another as they could possibly be.

Nearly like light and darkness.

A slight smirk appeared on Scratch's face at this metaphor, but it didn't last long, as he soon came to think about Wake, who had appointed himself as the Champion of Light.

And with that thought, there came back the fear, the fear to have lost what the writer had left to him just before he disappeared without any trace. He quickly reached into his jacket, but when he failed to find what he was searching for, he stood still.

Jesse looked back at Scratch over a shoulder and – seeing him falling behind – stopped walking as well.

"You're fine?" Her voice was sharp as a blade, yet she was truly worried about him. She never liked showing her worries, though, she hated being weak even in emotions. But today was different. So many paradox things had happened within the last few hours, all she seemed to have learned about Wake and his evil twin got turned upside down, no way this all would pass without leaving a mark.

Scratch just nodded in response, still somehow there was a faint voice – nearly inaudible – heard within the silence: _'Where… where is it? Damn, it can't be gone, it can't be!'_

Somehow this voice sounded like Scratch's but he actually hadn't spoken a word. Instead he just stood there, searching every pocket of his jacket, without even looking up. But when he once more checked the inner pocket, he sighed in relief, and the voice continued to whisper: _'Here it is. How…? Doesn't matter, it's here, that's what counts. I mustn't loose it.'_

"H-hey?", Jesse meant to actually call him by his 'name', but damn, she still can't dare to say it. "You don't seem fine at all, do you?"

Something was wrong... Huh, as if nothing else was wrong before. Yet this was definitely so far from normal, even for their standards!

"I'm fine... I'm fine..." said Scratch, but he still didn't look at Jesse. Instead the disembodied voice seemed to become louder as he walked past her.

_'Spare me with your fake concern, Faden, we don't have time for that'_, it whispered. '_>She< is still here, I can feel her presence. Wake gave it back to me, it's sealed, but I can use it to fight... I just need to keep my mind clear, not let it control me. It'll be hard, but I won't let >her< hurt them. Where are you, writer? Don't you dare to die before we find you.'_

"**_Hey_**!" yelled Jesse and grabbed him by the shoulders when he passed by, and shook him as if to make him come back to senses. "What are you doing, collect yourself!"

"I don't do anything, what's wrong with you?!" he snapped angrily, but when he looked up, she saw the honest confusion laying in his eyes and she frowned in disbelief.

No way, she definitely heard him! And still... she would swear she didn't see his lips moving. What the hell was going on?!

"I-I heard you mumbling nonsense", she said. "About Wake, a presence, something else... Y-you just talked like crazy!"

"But I didn't...." Scratch frowned too for a moment, then the expression on his face switched to something between shock and fear, and he took a few steps back from Jesse. "You... you mean you can actually **_hear_** my thoughts?"

Jesse shrank back. No way! She thought again. So that's why he didn't mock her when she was thinking about Trench – not because he _didn't want_ to, but because he _couldn't_ read her mind any longer! For now, it is her who can? Hold on... Doesn't that mean Scratch's telepathy is gone – to her? How could it be?

But her train of thoughts was harshly interrupted when Scratch grabbed her by the wrist.

"Answer to me!" he snarled with raised voice, almost yelling at her, when she remained silent.

"Don't scream at me like that! I don't know, I don't, I..." But then she crepped in and surrendered. "I… I guess I can", she whispered, avoiding to meet eyes with him.

"That's bad, that's very bad" said Scratch and when he let go of her, his voice sounded anything but angry – rather desperate. He closed his eyes and rubbed his temples, and another glimpse of his racing thoughts echoed through the silence: '_I'm slipping away ... if >she< finds out about it, everything's lost... Get a grip, Scratch! ... I could—" _He once more reached into his jacket_ "—but I can't use it twice ... and if I use it now, I might lose myself completely… Still… it might be the only way…'_

Jesse caught his arm before he could do anything.

"Stop it!" she said. No matter what he's about to do, she won't keep him safe from his own insanity for long. Wake would know the way. She doesn't. Where was Trench when she needed him so desperately? "Get yourself together, now! You hear me?"

Scratch tensed at her touch. For a moment he didn't move, but then he took a deep breath and finally opened his eyes to look at her.

"Alright, alright. I won't use it, don't worry", he said. _'At least not now', _added the faint whisper._ 'It's not the right time. It'll **be** soon, but not now, not now...'_

He pulled his hand back, leaving whatever he had hidden within his jacket right where it was. "We must find Wake, he's the only to set this all right", he said, and a bitter smile formed on his lips as his thoughts continued his words almost instantly: _'That means if he **agrees** to. But he probably won't, after all I did. Why should he, anyway? I'm his nemesis, it'll be the best way for him to get rid of me. He'd just have to wait and watch, he wouldn't even get his hands dirty… He could've ended it right away, but no, of course he didn't. Would've been too easy…'_

Jesse grabbed his hand to cut his messy thoughts and lead him across the hall to the dark doorway far ahead. Scratch didn't resist against her, but he looked back over his shoulder as he heard a noise from behind, an echoing howl down the hallway that was almost silent at first, but came closer very quickly.

"Director? I guess we're about to get some company."

Jesse heard him and quickly pushed him into the doorway, then she rushed behind him and leaned with him to the wall.

It was completely dark in here, the hall's light was the only bright stain. The noise Scratch had heard came closer and closer, and they both held their breath when it reached them – but it just passed by and the howl quickly faded away into the distance.

"It didn't notice us", she said, peeking out into the corridor.

"I suspect it's nothing that your House usually throws at you?"

Jesse slightly shook her head. "But it seems gone for now. I think we can still win some more time."

Scratch didn't say anything, only the faint whisper of his thoughts spoke for him instead: _'If it's not the Hiss… and it can't be Jagger either… What was it then?_'

Just a second later he hissed silently and closed his eyes because of his stupidity, having realized that – for the first time since he arrived at the Oldest House – he actually mentioned Jagger's real name; despite it was only in his mind, it could be enough to make her aware of their current position. '_Oh shit!_'

Jagger? Jesse looked at Scratch, but before she could open her mouth to ask who this >Jagger< was, she was blinded by the sudden flash. She blinked several times until her eyes got used to light and saw two hissing TV boxes standing on the floor, blocking the way they came from and behind them... there was a huge dark hole, filled with leaking inky shadows, howling and weeping like from under the deep waters.

Jesse gasped. Could it mean that Wake got dragged back into the Dark Place? He won't be forgiven for what he has done tonight if he's there! Are they too late? ... No... Please, no! There must be a way to get him out of there, there must be!

"Listen", she caught Scratch's wrist and grabbed it closely, "what if Wake is, indeed, made to come back this way? Everything happens for a reason, and if this", she nodded towards the leaking hole, "is the path to where he is, we might be able to pull him over before that essence or your >Jagger< is back to notice us!"

"Shut your mouth, don't say her name, don't even dare to _think_ it!" hissed Scratch sharply. His eyes shortly rested at the TV's, before he glanced towards the hole behind and finally looked at Jesse. "Wake is a creator who got touched by the Dark Presence. You can't just >_pull him over_<, that's not how the Dark Place works!"

And as Scratch said it, the tone in his voice cracked; no matter how much he tried to control and hide his emotions before, he couldn't deny it any longer: he was scared to death. But then, suddenly, another thought crossed his mind and again the faint whisper echoed through all the noise for Jesse to hear: _'The Dark Place and the Oldest House are places with supernatural powers; They're such a contrast to another, but still they are **connected**, things work **different** here, I saw it myself. What if —?'_

Scratch reached into his jacket again, pulled out a piece of paper and unfolded it. The typewritten words on it seemed to float a little and got distorted every now and then, but still the black ink created a sharp contrast against the white page.

"Perhaps you're right, Director. Find him. I'll give you as much time as possible."


	10. The Darkest Hours V

**~Chapter 9~**

Jesse stood a bit before the ink-leaking portal, then turned back to Scratch and patted his shoulder.

"Try to not die on me, okay? Stay as calm as you can. I'll be back... I mean, **_we_** will."

Scratch nodded and lowered his eyes towards the page in his hand, and he started to whisper in a language Jesse was not able to understand. But right now she didn't care; he surely knew what he was doing, and now it was Wake who needed her help more. She took a deep breath before she touched the floating ink coming from the hole. The dark flows wrapped around her wrist and dragged her inside.

It hurts, it hurts, so painful! Her aura burst in rainbow colors, protecting her from even more harm of the transition. As the pain ended and the flows let her go, she felt like falling – no, drowning! – down and down until something looking like a rocky shore of a small island appeared below.

Jesse regained her gravity powers once more and managed to stop her fall. Hanging in just three meters above the earth, she signed in relief and allowed herself to drop to the ground.

Pitch-black waves stirred around the island, creating inky shadows that rose like liquid smoke from the rocks as they violently crashed against the shore. A lonely wooden cabin was built far ahead, and if this was any ordinary place, it would've looked quite cozy, suitable for a vacation or a honeymoon.

But the innocent appearance couldn't fool her. She remembered that Wake described it to her once in one of their countless typewriter sessions; it was the very building he's been trapped in since almost five years.

Despite she had never been here before, this sight seemed oddly familiar to her, like a déjà vu, or something she had seen in a dream. And she somehow knew exactly where to go, where else should she go anyway.

Now it's time to find the writer himself, to get him out of this living hell, once and for all.

** _TapTapTapTapTap_ **

The deafening sound of clacking typewriter keys crashed down on her ears. It seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere at the same time, echoing all around the island, getting louder with each step she walked towards the cabin. And somewhere within all the noise there was a familiar, yet distorted voice.

"Yes, I'll write", it whispered, and even though it sounded far away, it was as clear as if the person speaking was standing right next to her. "I'll fix it… they won't escape…"

Jesse crouched to the door and sneaked into the cabin. She felt her special gun in the jacket and took it out to prepare it just in case. Oooh, and that cylinder! She still had it, too. Yet she should keep it for the best.

The sounds of the eagerly typing machine and eerie voice became louder – and much more louder, when Jesse stepped on the wooden stairs.

_Please don't squeak_, she thought, _don't squeak_. She shouldn't make any noises now.

She froze still when the clacking of the keys stopped for a moment... but then there was a rasping sound of paper pulled out of the typewriter and a new page put into it, before the typing continued, and Wake kept talking to himself.

"He's evil, didn't change… he must die… no, better, >_taken_< back."

The more Jesse stepped up the stairs and the closer the voice came, the more her heart started beating in a sadness that echoed in her soul with thousands needles.

"No mercy... he deserves it... he resisted, didn't obey... but it's his fate... no mercy!"

Finally, she crouched to the study. Its door wasn't locked – not even closed; it was wide opened to let her in. Is that so simple, though? Shouldn't there be anything, any catch, any obstacle for her? It was way too easy…

"And her… she's strong, suitable… she'll be the next Herald… she already took some of his powers, it'll be easy for her..."

Jesse's heart beat much painful when she heard his words about herself – no freaking way, not in this life!

"The Hiss will be free… They all will be…"

Jesse cursed silently. Enough of this stupid nonsense! She straightened up, took a deep breath and as she stepped into the room, the typing noise silenced within a second.

Wake looked up from his typewriter – seemingly aware of her presence –, and Jesse froze still on the threshold to wait for his next actions or at least for him to turn around.

He never did. Instead he just stared at the wall in front of him.

"Nice to meet you again, Mr. Wake", she said, keeping the distance towards him while she grabbed her gun closer.

Her words echoed in the eerie silence and for a moment it seemed as if they would fade unheard... but then Wake finally turned his head, glancing at her over a shoulder, while he kept sitting in front of the typewriter.

"Hello, Director Faden", he said, smirking towards her in the very same sinister way like Scratch did when she had first met him. A shadow flickered across his face; it was faint, nearly invisible, and yet she didn't fail to notice it when it distorted his features for less than a second.

_Oh, Wake_, she thought,_ how could this happened to you, after all we've been through, what kind of demon magic poisoned you now?_

God, please, don't make her kill him. If he dies on her, she'll be suffering from guilt for the whole eternity.

She didn't move a muscle, yet deep beneath her heart she felt bitter regret. She cringed and faked a smile.

"How is it going now? Are you done with your writing? Or how can I help you with it?"

"It's going great", he said. "No need to help, though. I already have an editor, and >_she_< knows how to use my writing properly. You would only ruin it."

Wake suddenly stood up from his chair and walked over to the window, but his feet didn't make any sound on the wooden floor.

"I know what you think", he continued, looking outside while standing with his back towards Jesse, "but it's for the best, really. My writing shaped the world before... and it will again! There's no way for you to stop it, it's too late now, even if you shoot me."

Just then, like on his command, the pile of typewritten pages on the desk got covered by shadows and dissolved into nothingness, making the half written paper that sat within the typewriter the only one left.

What should she do? The poison of this place darkened his mind with no hope to talk to his real self. This man wasn't the very writer she succeeded to know, she refuses to accept it! It's like he and his evil twin switched places, so she should now fight this man in a funny patched jacket instead of the one in a suit, and the second time for tonight she is about to point a gun on his head.

But it **_was_** Wake who stood before her eyes, no one else. And she is **_not_** intending to shoot him, no questions!

Jesse cringed again and slowly walked over to the desk. Wake didn't make an attempt to stop her, he didn't even turn around; instead he just kept looking outside as if to wait for his very words to come true, no matter what happened around him.

With a deep breath she pulled the last page out of the typewriter. The white sheet glowed strangely in the dim light and so did the black ink on it; the writing seemed to float above the paper, but every other moment it got distorted by darkness, before twitched back to clear letters after a second – just like it happened to the one Scratch had kept back at the Oldest House.

Still, the page's appearance didn't matter, its content did! The first written sentence followed the previous one of the gone manuscript – it was incomplete but the rest read clear:

_" done it way earlier. It felt so good to once more be united with the whole of his powers, to have them back completely, to be told what to do. He had been such a fool to think that Wake could free him. He didn't even know why he asked the writer to do it; he never really wanted him to, actually. _

_The Darkness wasn't evil, he knew that. It had been inside of him for more than the past three decades after all, so who could know better than him? Any >free will< and human moral standards were so annoying anyway, what did he even think about? Such a pathetic wish, born from the short confusion after the Hiss had attacked him._

_What a fool he had been… But now the tables had turned, and once more the chances fell into his favor._

_Scratch smirked as he raised Wake's own gun against the writer himself._

_It was time to end this everlasting misery, once and for all!_

_Just then, Jagger appeared. Dark flows surrounded her figure, crawling over her skin and the cloth of her mourning dress like liquid smoke. She was keeping a few meters of distance between Scratch and herself. The Director had hurt her enough with her rainbow aura already. She would not allow it to happen again; from here even a shot from the Director's weird gun wouldn't be able to reach her without hitting Scratch first. Yet there was no need for her to step any closer._

_"Shoot him!", ordered Jagger through her mere thoughts, and a sinister smile formed on her lips as she saw Scratch's hand tightening around the gun he held. He had struggled weakly but now that she had him back under control he **knew** it was for the better. And he **knew** that there was no more use for Wake._

_Once the writer was dead, no one will ever be able to get in Their way anymore. Scratch will return to his old position within the hierarchy of the Dark Place, and the Director will join him; he'll show her what she needed to know to be the next Herald of Darkness, and then he will take Wake's place, becoming the very creator to set Them all free. And as soon as They would be able to use the powers of the Hiss "_

No-no-no, he can't, he can't do this to them, not even to himself, no!

Jesse turned the page around, faintly hoping to find more words, but the back was blank. Of course it was, as she had interrupted his writing before he had been able to finish the broken sentence.

Damn, she shouldn't have left Scratch in the Oldest House, what had she even thought about! He stayed there, alone, with that entity – with this >Jagger<, the very woman that managed to break his will before!

With a gnash of her teeth Jesse found herself realizing that Wake's life had mattered more for her. And where are they now, her and the only human she trusted for recent time?

Need to get out of here. And **_with_** him! Screw that.

"Oh yeah, you know what's for the better, how can you judge?", she hissed towards him. By force Jesse grabbed the writer's shoulders and turned him around to herself. "Pull yourself together, you don't have to –", as she saw his empty stare, not reacting anyhow, she slapped his face in rage with no remorse. "**_Wake_**! Jagger is not the one you should keep for..." Jesse took his hand to show him his own wedding ring "**_She_** is the one! Think of it!"

For another while Wake stared into the nothingness, but after a moment that seemed to last an eternity something to change within his blank stare.

"_She's the one_", he echoed her words. Slowly, very slowly, his memories came back, memories he had forgotten just a few hours ago, still it seemed like they were already gone for ages.

A lake at night, the starless sky above, a woman with blonde hair, her body swallowed by black waves…

These returning images rising before his inner eye were anything but the truth, still they felt right somehow, it must've happened like that.

"She's… she's gone... dead…", he whispered. "She drowned years ago, it's my fault. I failed to save her the first and a second time, but I'm still trying. Jagger promised me that I can bring her back, she knows how this place works, she wouldn't lie to me. I must only follow her wishes and it'll be alright..."

"Shh, shh, hush, she's not dead." Jesse smiled as she saw his face slowly clearing up. "Alice is fine and alive, she's now a famous photographer in New York and I met her in person."

Bluff, she thought. She'd still love to meet Alice Wake face to face; however she either doesn't answer any of her calls or says that she's too busy to accept her meeting.

Yet Jesse knew that any mention of Alice would sober his mind from the dark slumber.

"Alice… that's her name… I've forgotten it, but how could I...?"

Just then the typewritten page in Jesse's hand became incredibly hot, as if it was on fire – what the hell! She nearly screamed from the pain and instinctively threw the page on the table.

Her heated hand glowed rainbow for a bit, while with the other she still was holding Wake's wrist. And as she saw him collecting back the memories, she smiled more. She was doing the right thing. Everything's going according the plan. She can be proud of herself.

She looked at the page again and out of nowhere there formed new words on it, handwritten in sharp, narrow letters that were pitch-black like the typewritten paragraph itself. Jesse sighed with relief – she's not alone anymore! But her smile quickly faded away more and more with each word she read.

"_Hurry, I'm losing it here…. Jagger is aware, she's here! …I can't ̛keep ̛i͝t͘ ̧u̢p͜ ̧f͘or̢ l̶ong n͢ow ..._ _g͡e̴̸͢t̶̢ ḩ͡i̢̛m̧̕ ̧ou̡t͝..._ _h͜u̴̵̡͘͠r̢͢r̡̢͟͟y͜͠!_"

The handwritten words slowly formed one after another, yet with each letter they got more blurry, just like the hands of person who wrote them were shaking – or as if his very mind was slipping away into insanity.

And then – Jesse was not able to say how it happened or why – something appeared before her inner eye: a shallow image of a suited man who was standing in a long, dark hallway and fought against a lady in a mourning dress. She tried to get past him, but he held her back with his bare hands, his form surrounded by shadows that seemed to be alive.

Even though the image lasted less than a second before it faded away again, it was long enough to ensure her that she hadn't merely imagined it.

"Dammit", she hissed. "No time to explain, follow me! Now!"

Having grabbed Wake by the wrist, she pulled him behind herself towards the doorway, but suddenly he froze still and looked back at the typewriter over a shoulder.

"I can't...", he whispered, just before he forcefully freed his hand from Jesse's grip. He picked up the manuscript page – not even reacting in any way when it once more started to glow – and sat down at the desk again. "I must stay, must write... for Alice..."

And as he started typing, not only his own black typewritten letters appeared on the page; there were also more of the handwritten words forming on the paper, but these were almost unrecognizable, glowing faintly red, too.

"H̵̕e̴͢'̶͢s͟_ still bound ... convincing t̛a͞k̡͡es ̢t̴͘͞o̴ơ ̴̧͡ much time ... b͜ut̴̢͜ ̶͘t̨he͢r͢e̶̡'ş̕͜ a way ... your gun,_ _J͠e̡s͡s҉e͜ ... i͞t̸͡'͢s̸̸͠ ͘͟ special ... use it̴... h͞e w̡̡ơn̨͡'͢t ̸̵͞ die, things w͘o͞r͘k̵ d̸i̶f͞f͠er̕e̵nt̶ ̶ now ..._ _t͠rus͏t̛ m̸e... h͜u̴̵̡͘͠r̢͢r̡̢͟͟y͜͠..._"

For God's sake, not again! It was going so well before!

"Nnngh!!" Jesse went for Wake and pulled him back from the table, though for now it took more of her strength to struggle with him. "I'm here not for this bullshit, stop mumbling nonsense!"

"It's not nonsense! You don't understand... how could you, anyway? I must write," Wake glanced to his wedding ring, "for her!" Wake pushed Jesse away from himself, and once more began to type. "... Alice... I'll save you... I'll fix it, don't worry..."

Suddenly a harsh, female voice cut through the silence: "Stop resisting, you fool! You can't save them, I'll get there anyway! You only make it worse for yourself, stop fighting I said!"

But there was another whisper heard among the study, and it was full of guilt and fear: "Do as I say... He won't die, things work different now... Why don't you trust me...? No time, no time... hurry, she's coming... I failed, forgive me..."

And only after, the handwritten words on the manuscript page faded away, leaving no trace of their existence behind.

Jesse didn't know what she believes anymore. Anger, hate, panic, despair, every emotion mixed up in her soul. She should take action, whatever it takes, whatever the price is.

_You didn't fail_, Jesse thought, _we still have a chance to fight through._

She's in **_control_**.

Jesse rushed to Wake like a wild cat and dropped him from the chair with all of her strength. Just after that, without any break, she pulled out the cylinder she considered to be a dynamite – no, it's not, but maybe it's even much more useful. She found a hidden switch in it, threw it near the doorway… and when it lightened the room up with such a bright and red light, that there was no corner remaining dark, she clenched her teeth and aimed the gun at Wake.

The writer hissed in pain from the sudden light.

"How can you dare?!", he yelled and somehow… somehow it seemed that a shadow was lifted from his figure, but it didn't fade away as expected; instead it covered him like a second skin. He looked down at the gun aimed towards his chest.

"You won't do that", he snarled, and when he looked back at Jesse, a strange twinkle laid within his eyes. "It'll kill me, you don't want to load this guilt on yourself!"

_Deal with it, Jesse_, she thought. _Don't look at him when you shoot, and it'll be fine. For every one of you._

But no. Hell no! Death doesn't change anything. There's always the way to live and act, even from beyond. Trench taught her that.

A slight smirk formed on her lips when she raised her weapon.

"Believe me, I can handle it", she said coldly and brought the bottom of gun down on his nape, knocking him out. Wake slumped into her arms; but despite he was unconscious, the dark layer around his body remained.

Just then, a figure took shape in the doorway, it was the woman in a mourning dress.

"You!" she hissed at Jesse, raising a hand to summon a strong darkness around herself that extinguished the light of the flare bit by bit. The appearing trace of wind moved the veil that was covering her face, but there weren't any human features beneath, only bones, like from a skeleton. "You'll never get out of this, never! He's mine! They both are!"

Jesse couldn't allow herself to fear, she was afraid to merely have screamed when Jagger appeared. She looked around in haste. There must be another way out, she must win some time to figure out how to escape.

The window! That's the variant.

She embraced Wake with one hand while she stretched the other towards the bookshelf, calling for her inner powers; with a flash of her rainbow aura she made the shelf fall over and squeashed it onto Jagger, who dissolved into nothingness before it hit her.

Next second, Jesse broke the window glass with a shot of her gun.

But even though the writer flinched from the loud noises nearby, he didn't regain consciousness; the darkness was still covering his form, flickering across his face, distorting his features.

_Hold on, Wake, _Jesse thought_, we can do it, we will, we –**have–** to do it._

Then, out of nowhere, handwritten letters appeared right in front of her; they were floating in the air and glowing red like the ones from the manuscript.

"_You can't pull him over like that... things work different now, trust me… you'll both be safe, do as I sa**y**._"

_What about me_, she thought_. If I shoot Wake for return, should I shoot myself, too?_

Coming back to life means killing yourself, what an irony.

More words appeared in front of her, lasting only a second, fading away again in almost the same moment as they appeared: "_The Dark Presence blocks the way... it didn't touch you, it's only about him..._"

Jesse gulped down in panic; her hands were sweating and shaking, barely holding anything. Jagger will be back in any moment – _come on, Jesse, be stronger, do it_!

She didn't really know what made her do what she was doing. Whether it was the wish to finally get out of this damned place, the desire to turn this whole madness to a sort of happy ending, or if she truly trusted Scratch's words.

Maybe it was a bit of all these, because in the end Jesse embraced Wake tighter and leaned the gun to his nape. "Let it be the right thing..."

"It is", suddenly said a familiar voice right next to her ear, and she felt a touch at her shoulder that was warm and cold at the same time. She slightly turned the head, despite she knew that there was nobody in the study beside herself and the knocked out writer.

"Trust me, Jesse. Your story isn't over yet…"

"If this goes wrong", she whispered and closed her eyes, "I'm the one to answer for it and no one else. I'm sorry, Alan."

_At least he won't feel any pain_, she said to herself. And she pulled the trigger.


	11. The Darkest Hours VI

**~Chapter 10~**

Wake's body got limp in her arms, and Jesse lowered the head, with no hope left for anything.

"I'm sorry, Alan, I'm so sorry…" she whispered repeatedly and embraced him more, just as if it could undo what she had done.

So this was it.

The end.

The person she had promised to save was dead, killed by her own hands.

And all this only because Scratch had miscalculated.

Or… did he?

Jesse's mind wandered back to the manuscript page she had read, but before she could give it a closer thought, the seemingly lifeless body in her arms gasped for air, and she tore her eyes open immediately.

"Wake? T-thank God, oh my..."

"Ms... Ms. Faden...?" Wake's voice was hoarse, but clear; and it was **_his_** voice, nobody else's. Wake leaned into Jesse's embrace, and coughed hard, yet he was alive, breathing, and no trace of the dark layer remained. "What… what happened? I think I remember, but… it's all cloudy... My head hurts…"

Suddenly there was that touch on Jesse's shoulder again.

"Well done, Jesse", whispered Scratch into her ear. "But you have to leave, right now, there's no time to lose. You must **_return_**."

And as he spoke, the single word **_RETURN_** appeared written in capital letters of the Herald's narrow handwriting. It floated outside of the study just beyond the broken window, glowing in a piercing white that hurt her very eyes, even from the distance.

Meanwhile the remaining light of the flare had grown weaker and weaker, and when it died away, there was a flash of darkness and Jagger stood once more in the doorway.

"You missed your deadline, writer!" she snarled, her voice cold like ice.

"Oh hell!" screamed Jesse and grasped for Wake's body. "Hold on, Wake, we're leaving!"

As she said it, holding him tight, she launched herself to the ceiling, and while she kept floating in the air, she broke down the remains of the window frame with her feet and dragged Wake outside.

"No, he's mine!", shrieked Jagger in rage and charged towards them both, but before she could get too close, Scratch appeared; the shadows that Jesse had seen in that mental image before were gone, instead his form was translucent and flickering, as if he was a ghost trapped between two dimensions. Still he blocked Jagger's way again, using only his bare hands, just like he did before.

"You two must go back, Jesse... hurry!" Scratch's voice echoed without his lips moving, and the glowing word shined even brighter when Jesse floated towards it and carefully decreased speed, but she didn't come to halt fast enough.

"Ouch!" she screamed from pain when she accidently touched the glowing letters with a knee and looked at the writer, who held close to her. "Wake? W-what should we do now?"

Wake thought for a moment. The way the word looked was so familiar... he had seen these kind of words before, he had known how to use them, but for some he didn't remember it.

"The flashlight, Stupid, use the flashlight!" called Scratch towards them. He was still fighting with Jagger, stopping her to come any closer, but with each second passing his figure flickered more and started to fade. "And don't touch it until you burned it away!"

Frowning deeply, Wake reached into his jacket and pulled out his flashlight.

"It's still with you!" gasped Jesse. "And, uh, and it didn't save you here? Ngh, screw that, burn it!" she nodded towards the word. "Do as he said!"

Wake switched the flashlight on, yet he hesitated to direct its beam towards the glowing letters, instead he turned his head towards the cabin.

This man back there, who looked like himself... Wake somehow **_knew_** that his Doppelgänger did unspeakable things in the past; he could feel the danger that radiated from him... His emotions – hate, distrust, fear – towards that man were strong. It was as if he has been taught them an eternity ago. If that man was his evil twin, why did he try to help them? It made no sense...

"No, that's not right, not right. It's a trick, he tries to fool us", said Wake and raised the flashlight, directing its beam back at the broken window.

"No, Wake, what are you doing?", Scratch snarled angrily, wincing like from an electric shock as the bright beam came to rest between his shoulders. "Don't you remember what happened before? What I **_showed_** you? Traitor!"

Scratch cringed more with each second the light was shined on him. As he fell to the knees, he felt his mind slipping away again, claimed back by the very darkness that resided all over this place.

"Do something, Jesse!" he yelled hoarsely and somewhere at the edge of his consciousness he imagined to recognize a smirk on Jagger's face. "You must return, don't let it end like this!"

"Nnnngh!" Jesse roared again, not only on Wake's nasty amnesia but also on her own impotence to deal with it. _Come on, Wake, try to remember_! "You've been doing it before, like, thousand times? You've told me that yourself, like, making words real with light? What's the deal?!"

"But back then it was **_my_** words... now it's **_his_**!" Wake kept aiming the flashlight towards the cabin. "He's evil, I can feel it. He can't be trusted, I just **_know_**. Who knows what it'll lead to? What if it's a trick to make us both be permanent prisoners here?"

"You didn't know **_anything_** until just now! **_I_** am the one who knows everything, or the most of it!"

Let's try to convince him, then, huh? To force him? At least, he must have remembered who **_she_** is. She, the federal agent and Director of Control; she, who was learning the world as it is with no veils of stereotypes – there is no freaking way she wouldn't come out victorious!

Surprisingly, Jesse still felt alright with holding Wake in the air. But even her patience has borders. One more refuse – and she'll steal this damn flashlight and shine the word herself instead.

"If you cannot trust **_him_**", she hissed sharply, "but at least you should trust **_me_**, got it?"

Wake lowered the flashlight and looked at Jesse for a long moment, that seemed to last an eternity. She's the one who seemed to have saved him from Jagger's influence, but still she supported that evil guy... Scratch! That's his name!

And Wake remembered even more about him: all the things he did, all the people he had murdered, how he tried to trap him in that everlasting déjà vu in Arizona... yet he felt that a few other details in that memories were missing. Something else must have happened that Jesse trusted his nemesis like this.

He didn't know what to think anymore...

What was ever real in this Dark Place, what was illusion?

"If this goes wrong", said Wake finally, still looking at her, "I won't forgive it to you. I won't forgive it ever!"

And only after he raised the flashlight towards the glowing word.

The darkness screeched as it got burned away, just like it was in pain. The white letters themselves shined brighter and brighter, until they both got fully engulfed by a blinding light.... they **_returned._**


	12. The Darkest Hours VII

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey y'all. It has been a rough past months that (even though everything was pre-written already) prevented me to continue this little madness, but here I am again to give you the next chapter. The next ones will follow pretty quickly, there will be no more delay, so take a seat and buckle up, we're heading for the Highway (to Hell) :)

**~Chapter 11~**

With a flash of light and a crack like thunder they fell on the floor of that very basement hall in the Oldest House. Jesse was crouching on all four, fighting her cough. Her whole body was hurting like as if it was smashed with a rock. She crawled a bit further and felt the flashlight beneath her hand. It was blinking, like it was scared the same way she was. Jesse held it close and looked up to find Wake.

Here he was, huddling on the ground, coughing as well and breathing heavily, like he ran the longest marathon of his entire life.

"It went wrong", he whispered to himself, his voice was scared and he shivered all over. "We're not back, we're still there. I won't forgive it to her, never, I won't forgive it..."

Jesse shined the weak ray of the flashlight on him, but his face seemed normal...Well, kind of. As normal as it could be, after all what happened. But at least there were no more shadows laying on his features.

"Wake?" she whispered, shaking his shoulder a very bit. "Wake, we're home."

"...home?" Wake gulped and he opened his eyes, afraid of what he might see. His glance darted around the basement hall, while his brain was trying to make sense of what had just happened. This place looked different, so different from the cabin he had just been it, this wasn't the Dark Place, "Where…?"

"The Oldest House", Jesse said gently before he could finish his question. "This is my home. Soon we can find yours. We're back in reality, see?" She took his hand into her own and made his palm rest on the concrete floor. "It's **_real_**."

"Real... it's real..." whispered Wake. He sat up and rubbed his neck as it hurt all of a sudden... and he remembered he got a quite heavy hit there. His head still hurt too, just as if somebody had tried to pull his brain out of his skull... but he was still alive, so that was impossible. He rested a palm to his forehead, groaning slightly from the pain.

Then something crashed down on his mind; images of a blonde woman drowning in a dark lake, and with them a feeling of immense guilt rose within his chest.

"Alice…" he whispered, hardly fighting down a sob. "She's dead... I left her back there."

"She's **_not_** dead, just like I said to you", Jesse convinced. "She still lives in New York and currently we are, too, in New York. It will be easy to locate her new flat."

No wonder why both his head and neck hurt, she thought. He better not know what she's done to bring him back – and what she felt at that moment.

"Yes, you told me before she's alive... but it's all so blurry..." Wake closed his eyes and rubbed his temples, as if trying to regain his memories. "I remember writing something... then you were there... Jagger was too, and Scratch... they both hurt you, right? She is too strong, but I swear, I'll banish him... write him out of every existence!"

Jesse shrugged. She liked to say **_it_**, but knowing his impulsive behavior prevented her from telling him.

Instead, she sat closer to make his head lean on her shoulder and he let it happen, even closed his eyes. Jesse sighed silently. She needs to prepare herself well to explain everything that happened in here before he was dragged back into the Dark Place.

"You don't have to", she said after the long pause, and Wake opened his eyes almost instantly, the expression on his face somewhere between surprise, confusion and disbelief.

"What do you mean with that?"

"You don't have to banish your evil twin as he...", Jesse sighed, "as he seems to have already been banished. You see – sometimes we need something or someone '**_evil_**' to become better people ourselves. He just... tried to do the same thing that you did because of him. No matter how weird it sounds."

_He's probably dead now_, she thought. Such a special entity who refused his own life role to become better. No one is innocent, after all. Especially her.

"You should see it, too, right?" she added. "We all need our own darkness to fill it with light."

"I don't understand", said Wake, still looking at her, even more confused than before. ">He tried to do the same thing as I did<? I'm not like him; I never killed anybody just for the mere fun of it!"

_Alright_, Jesse thought, _time for direct questions_. Her best side.

"What do you remember from the past several hours?" she asked. "And, well, what do you remember about me – about _us_ – in general?"

Wake kept silent while he thought for a moment. It was hard to recall the memories; they seemed to be covered under thick layers of dust, unreachable until he focuses on them, yet somehow he felt as if those memories were best left in the dark.

Still, Jesse saved his life, so he owed her an honest answer... for the least!

"I know you're the Director of the Federal Bureau of Control", he said, having taken a deep breath. "Your task is similar to mine: you must hunt down a supernatural enemy, only that yours is called _the Hiss_. We know each other since quite a while now, and I… I think we have actually met before."

"Well, we _have _met before, Wake", Jesse interrupted him. "The mirror, our countless talks on the typewriter…"

"No, no, not like that", said Wake. "I mean… like _in person_, like… like _before_ today, before the Hiss attacked us…" He sighed and kept rubbing his temples and then he started talking without a pause, as if he was afraid he would forget any of his thoughts if he didn't say them immediately. "I don't know, it's all so blurry, like it was some kind of distant dream, even less than that. But I _do_ remember clearly that I felt danger at your side. I knew that Scratch was planning something for the past few weeks, but that he came for you... I just couldn't let that happen. I tried to break through, but Scratch prevented it. He did often before, I recognized his pattern.... again, things get blurry after that. I just remember that you and me fought the Hiss. Scratch was there too, pretending to be wounded. I guess he hoped I'd fall for it and write his powers stronger. I'm not stupid; I saw through his lies and I used your typewriter to banish him, the room filled with darkness and when Scratch attacked us, you shot him in the neck. But that bastard can't die by a simple gunshot, no surprise that he showed up later at the cabin."

Jesse didn't interrupt him a second time, she only frowned as he mentioned her shooting Scratch – because this was the only moment that slipped away from _her own_ memory.

She remembered only darkness swallowing her consciousness during Wake's act of creating. He better not know it...

"After you knocked him out, Jagger dragged you to the Dark Place", continued Wake without looking at her. "But you followed my advice, so we switched places. It was the same with Alice too back then. All I remember after that is that I was typing like mad, until you came to save me with light..."

_What a freaking game of irony_, Jesse thought. He only remembers what he is supposed to remember, no matter what really happened.

"You know how you got that wound behind your neck?" she dared to ask after Wake silenced.

"Not really. There was bright light. I resisted against it, you knocked me out... and I woke up again when one of the floating words appeared..." said Wake, his voice got a more quietly with each word he spoke, then he suddenly jumped up and took a few steps back from Jesse. "It was one of Scratch's words! He wanted me to burn it and you told me to as well! How the hell could you know that he wouldn't try to kill us?!"

"He was helping me", she said and stood up as well, "to let you out from there! He wanted you to be **_free_** of the Dark Place!"

"No way!" Wake shook his head in disbelief. "He tried to trap me within there and back in Arizona, wanted to kill me... and Barry and Alice too! He's the Herald of Darkness, a cold blooded killer and a smug bastard, he would **_never_** help anyone except for his own advantage!"

"**_Not_** anymore", Jesse said strictly. "I'd say the exact same thing if I was in your shoes, believe me. But I **_saw_** him having changed. You also did, actually. And it was **_him_** who saved me from the experiment floor collapsing – **_and_** from Jagger! Right after, uh... right after we >switched places<."

"No. No way, it can't be!"

Wake kept shaking his head. He refused the apparently truth but somehow... somehow Jesse's words rang a bell. They sounded right... if he could just remember more—

Suddenly a piece of paper fell from the ceiling, appearing straight from thin air; Wake caught it and he grimaced in disgust as his fingers got covered by blood that was scattered all over the sheet. The page seemed empty first, but then a single pitch-black word of capital letters formed in narrow handwriting: "**_RUN_**!"

"What the hell?" Jesse peeked at the page and her heart lost a beat. A glimpse of relief – he still may be alive! – and a new fear about this cryptic warning paralyzed her body for a second.

They should run? From what?

She got the answer to her unspoken question immediately, when there was an angry roar heard down the corridor. It came closer very fast along with the sound of breaking glass as every single of the light bulbs shattered one after another, turning their surroundings black.

"Oh **_shit_**!" Wake's voice sounded alarmed and he winced as the page in his hand started to glow – it became hot like fire too, what kind of new manuscript was this? He stared the page confused as more words formed on the page:

"_Run... you must get out... She's coming... Can't stop it... Losing control..._"

Wake gulped hard; he knew this handwriting – it was Scratch's! Did it mean…?

"Let's go!" Jesse grabbed Wake's hand and when she pulled him to the far side of the hall... she heard the sound of moving walls somewhere above.

_Oh, may the Oldest House help them_!

"That sound..." Wake looked up to the ceiling while he followed Jesse, holding the blood-stained page as if his life depended on it. "I hope this house won't collapse!"

"It won't!" said Jesse on the run. "But it may trick those who are inside it."

Last time she was on the basement floor with Scratch, they fell from a huge tunnel that got barricaded right after by the House itself.

_If there is still the dead-end... No, let's hope for the better._

"Will it trick paranormal evil, too? Or only us?", said Wake, breathing heavily and gasping for air. His ribs started to ache from the running, his legs hurt as well... it was way too long since he was a better runner in Arizona. And he silently swore to himself that – should they get out of this alive – he'll never skip gym again.

"Everyone", Jesse insisted. "Keep closer, Wake!"

She would also happily add that she could take him into the air one more time as she saw Wake lagging behind, but her body, too, felt like a bag of bones, having been forced to move on. Yet there are still some of her powers left. And if there is the need, she'll catch him up.

The roar kept coming closer. As soon as they reached the end of the floor, Jesse broke the final room's door... and almost fell down, but she succeeded to regain the balance and stay still.

The room was no more. Instead, there was a lightless space with huge flying cubes, violent wind twisting around and with no bottom seen below.

"No, watch out!" Wake rushed to Jesse and grabbed her on the wrist, pulling her away from the abyss. He then carefully stepped closer himself and peeked down into the nothingness.

"Oh God...", he said and when his head went dizzy from the height he held tightly to the doorframe to not lose his balance. "Why can't this freaking House be on **_our_** side?!"

"It **_should_** be on our side!" Jesse looked at Wake worried – and thankful, holding his hand again. "This is my House. Trust me."

"Well, well... Look what cute couple we have here", suddenly said a voice right behind them. It sounded quite familiar, yet at the same time it was cold and sharp – a mocking copy of Wake's own. "So we all meet again..."

Jesse's heart skipped a beat. No way. He couldn't struggle so hard before and just in vain! He couldn't...!

The howl of the Dark Presence came closer, and so did the steps from behind. But then some of the cubes flying above the abyss joined each other into a floating bridge across the broken room.

Not daring to look back over a shoulder, Wake grabbed Jesse's hand closer and – dragging her behind – dashed forward.

They haven't even reached the middle of the bridge when it suddenly shook violently beneath their feet. Staggering, they spread their arms to hold their balance, and as they both stood still again, Wake turned around to look back.

Scratch was nowhere to be seen, but in horror Wake saw that the vortex of the Dark Presence had reached the floating bridge as well; the cubes nearest to it shattered into sharp shards and fell down into the abyss, yet the bridge itself didn't collapsed.

No way back now, all they could do is keep going!

Just then, Scratch appeared right in front of them, literally taking form out of nowhere.

"Come on, won't you greet an old friend?" he asked with a slight chuckle. "How rude you both are."

Scratch stepped closer, and not only a smug grin – that very smirk Wake hated so much – appeared on his face; there was a dark, malicious twinkle flickering through his eyes too.

">_Changed_<, eh?", snarled Wake towards Jesse and pulled out his gun from his jacket. "Seems that he just changed again! How the hell could you trust him for even a single second?!"

"Shh!! We can deal with it..." hissed Jesse on Wake's ear and looked from over his shoulder. And then she gasped, having noticed something else about Scratch's appearance: Almost invisible to the naked eye, a faintly glowing object was stuck in his chest.

_What the… What's that glowing thing_, she thought. She squint her eyes to take a closer look, but she couldn't really focus on it. Yet it was exactly at the spot where his heart should be. Was it…?

Jesse glanced at Wake, but he didn't seem to notice what she saw.

"Prove it!" she said to Scratch and took a step aside. She straightened her right hand with the gun pointing at Scratch, as with left hand she passed the flashlight to Wake. "Prove you're still with us! Don't mind me threatening you like this, it's a self-protection, you know."

"He can't prove it", snarled Wake. "He **_never_** was on our side, Jesse! **_Never_**!"

Though, there was a weird feeling in his gut that told him that his own words were wrong, that something else has happened after the Hiss has been banished. But what was it? If he could only remember...

"Stay back, Scratch!" yelled Wake and aimed both the flashlight and the gun at him. "I swear I'll shoot you! Stay back!"

Indeed Scratch froze still on Wake's words, but he seemed not impressed at all by the two guns and the flashlight aimed at him. Instead he kept smirking and snapped his fingers. With a flash of darkness the gun in Wake's hand dissolved into nothingness, appearing in the Herald's instead and he raised it against the writer himself.

Just then, Jagger appeared a few meters behind Scratch. Dark flows surrounded her figure, crawling over her skin and the cloth of her mourning dress like liquid smoke and despite her lips didn't move, her harsh voice cut through the silence.

"Shoot him!", she ordered, and a sinister smile formed on her lips as she saw Scratch's hand tightening around the handle of Wake's gun.

Moments, which seemed long like an eternity passed – but Scratch didn't pull the trigger.

It was just like on the very page Jesse managed to sneak from Wake in his moment of insanity, the one that had never been completed!

Realizing it, Jesse gasped and lowered her gun. She won't let any one of them kill each other. If the forces of Light and Darkness need these two so desperately, they **_must_** live.

Both of them.

Also... since when did Wake start calling her 'Jesse' instead of 'Ms. Faden'? That sudden, funny thought warmed her soul a very bit – yet it was far enough for her to act.

May the Oldest House help her!

The walls were breathing again, she heard them coming closer. And right above, there were the remains of that very vertical tunnel that made them fall down into the basement in first place. Jesse bypassed Wake, quickly slid to the edge of the broken bridge. It took no more than two seconds. Then she dived under the bridge, and as she spread her arms in the air, hundreds of cube shards and other trash merged in one flow and lifted up the cubes where Wake and Scratch were standing.

"Whoa! What's the hell…?" Wake instinctively flailed with his arms in a desperate attempt to keep his balance but it was no use; he fell to his knees, the flashlight slipped from his grip and rolled over the edge of the bridge, disappearing into the nothingness below.

_It's over. I'm sorry Alice_, thought Wake, and he closed his eyes, waiting for the lethal shot.

But it never came.

With heavy pounding heart Wake looked up, equally surprised and scared of what he saw.

Scratch still aimed the gun at him, yet apart from that he didn't move an inch; he just stood there like a lifeless statue that was frozen in time. The mocking smirk was long gone; instead he clenched his teeth with tensed face, breathing heavily as if he just ran a few miles on full speed… yet he still refused Jagger's words.

"You fool!" yelled Jagger. "It has been written, you can't deny your fate! Shoot him, I said, kill him! This is an order, you must obey!"

Jagger's form dissolved into nothingness, but only a second later she had taken shape anew, much closer to Scratch, as close that she only had to raise a hand to touch him – and she did, grabbing for something at his back.

At first Wake didn't manage to see what Jagger had reached for. But after a moment there was something forming within Scratch's chest; a shadowy object shaped like a sword, flickering faintly and stabbed from the front all the way through to his back, at the spot where his heart should be. The longer Jagger held the tip of the sword, the brighter it glowed, until it eventually took a very solid and clear appearance, not to be unnoticed any longer.

Scratch yelped painfully, a flow of blood started to drip from his nose and ears, growing stronger with each second passing, and in this moment Wake finally realized it: Scratch fought a desperate battle that he was not able to win.

"**_Wake_**!" The echoing scream of Jesse swept through the ever-changing space, and she reappeared in the air, ascending in front of everyone's eyes. She landed near Wake, held him as tight as she could after flying, and brought him back his lost flashlight. Its beam lightened up his face when he looked at her.

"You just… It's… I… Jagger… Scratch, he…" Wake's broken words didn't make sense; he shivered all over and grabbed the regained flashlight very close, leaning it to his chest, just as if his life depended on it.

"Don't you even dare to give up", said Jesse sharply towards him. "You hear me?"

And then she jolted her head up, having heard a harsh voice nearby.

"Do as you are told, Herald!" hissed Jagger coldly, grabbing the ghostly blade even closer. Scratch yelped again, and he closed his eyes as his hands started to tremble; the flow of blood grew stronger with each second passing and when his finger moved slowly but steadily towards the trigger, Jesse once more heard the faint voice of his thoughts inside of her head.

'_No, no! Do something, Jesse, please_', it whispered but it was much quieter than before, almost inaudible like drowned in water. '_Stop her! Kill me if you must, but don't let me shoot him_!'

Suddenly, before Jesse could even move a finger, the former room started recollecting itself into something completely new. Several towers of concrete and stone arose from below, and the one of them – being the closest one to Scratch – fenced him off from Jagger, having made a huge solid spiral around him as if it was intending to wrap him. Yet it didn't, leaving a free space for him to move and observe.

This wasn't just the House.

It was something else.

Something alive, something... **_humane_**.

Scratch once more yelped loudly as Jagger's hand was forced away from his back; he then finally fell to his knees, dropping the gun. But the sword stabbed through his chest didn't disappear; instead it changed color from its former shadowy appearance to a piercing-bright red and he couldn't help but scream from the sharp pain that crashed down upon him.

This was unlike anything he had ever felt before; it was like every inch of his skin was covered by shards of glass that cut into his flesh, as if each of his bones broke apart at the same second, as if his blood was on fire, burning him alive from within.

More blood flowed from his nose and ears and somewhere at the edge of his consciousness he noticed the humane being that had separated him from Jagger, but he simply had no strength left to give it a closer thought.

"I'll let you free (free)... Keep fighting (fighting)..."

Scratch heard a voice he never heard before – distorted, quiet and whispering somewhere from beyond. It was both far away and very close to him, nearly mumbling in his very ears.

Jesse heard this voice, too. She shortly smiled and shook Wake's shoulders.

"Hold on, Wake, we... Wake!" she yelled seeing him still kneeling on the ground, not moving or reacting anyhow, shivering, losing his will – whatever the Dark Presence seeded in him with amnesia, she must rip it off. "There is no freaking time, get up! We must **_fight_**, you hear me?"

Wake took a deep breath to break through his own messy thoughts.

"I'll fight... I'll fight...", he whispered. He reached for the gun Scratch had dropped, then he stood up; he was still shivering all over, but his face was determined, his eyes aware.

No time to give up or even rest, not now, not until Jagger and Scratch were banished from this reality – or dead.

More and more towers rose near them, flexible, waving like ribbons despite of being made of solid materials, protecting from the shadows of the Dark Presence. Jagger screeched and roared, but despite creating most terrifying noise that echoed all over the place, she wasn't able to break through the protection that was created.

Still laying on the ground and fighting against the darkness that once more tried to get hold of him, Scratch shuddered from the pain that kept flowing through his veins like liquid fire. And yet he clearly heard that voice nearby, whispering to him… For a moment he thought that it was Zane, but no, it couldn't be; the poet's voice sounded different.

It wasn't Jesse or Jagger either.

Who was it then?

Another Dark Presence that tried to take him over? He couldn't let it happen!

"No", he hissed between two breaths and out of an instinct he crawled backwards, trying to escape from the unknown presence. "You can't— I'll fight you, just like her— I won't—"

"...don't reject (reject)... on your side (side)..." echoed the voice. "Be strong..."

"Nobody's on my side!" yelled Scratch, screaming from the pain that grew even stronger. "Get out of my head! GET OUT! I won't let you take me over, I'd rather die!"

Just then countless blue sparkles formed within the air, shining like tiny ice crystals, glowing slightly from within. Something like a hand wrapped the tip of the sword stuck in Scratch's body and he froze still as if paralyzed by the ghostly touch, only his eyes moved around in haste and fear.

"Trench", sighed Jesse with a smile.

Unable to say anything or to move, Wake watched was what happening to his evil twin. Or... was Scratch **_evil_** actually?

_He could've shot me right away_, thought Wake, _but he didn't. He refused Jagger, and she made him suffer for his disobedience. He must've known about that._

But this didn't make any sense. Scratch was his nemesis after all, why was he willing to take punishment just to spare him... to **_save his very life_**?

Wake's thoughts raced within his head as he once more focused on the sword in Scratch's chest.

Where did it come from out of a sudden when Jagger had reached for it? Why has he never noticed it before in the countless times he had encountered the Herald?

Did it mean... that Scratch was nothing more than a >Taken< too?

"Who's Trench?" asked Wake with trembling voice to save himself from more confusing and paradoxical thoughts.

"The one who was before me", Jesse answered. And then she stood on her knees and touched the floor of their flying cube.

Her aura became visible, flickering rainbow, and as she summoned her hidden power, the pale light from her aura spread around all the floating objects, covering them with more strength and her will to **_control_****.**

And when the light reached the concrete spiral where Scratch got kept into, the ghostly hand clenched the sword – and it loudly broke into sharp shards like made from ice.

Scratch once more yelped loudly in pain; his eyes flickered red for a moment, then he blacked out, still bleeding from his nose and ears, and also from the wound that was left behind in his chest.

At the same time, the wound on Wake's neck opened up, leaking transparent shadows. He collapsed on the floor and gasped slightly as flickering images appeared in front of his mind's eye, bright, colorful, unstoppable... and he **_remembered_**,

The danger he sensed in the Oldest House didn't come from Scratch, it came from the Hiss. It had shattered Scratch's powers and used them for its own, freeing him from the Dark Presence's control, at least for that very moment. Scratch had helped him and Jesse in their fight against the Hiss, then the Herald had showed him what happened in his past... and he didn't try to **_banish_** Scratch with the writing that accidently dragged Jesse into the Dark Place, he had tried to **_save_** him.

And he remembered what had happened at the Dark Place too, after he dragged Jesse out of there: He wrote everything that Jesse and Scratch went through in his own absence, every little thing that happened both in reality and at the Dark Place until the very moment Scratch had pointed Wake's own gun against him, and Jagger gave him the order to kill...

"I wrote it", whispered Wake, and he sobbed in guilt, covering his face with his hands. "I wrote it all... It's my fault... all my fault."

Still being concentrated on the House's changes, feeding them with her own light, Jesse tore off her hand from the floor and laid it on Wake's wound.

"Not yours, Wake", she spoke up silently, "I'll take it all."

As she said it, the glow from her hand soaked under Wake's skin.

"No need... it's my fault, nobody else's." Wake's voice steadied and he grabbed the hand that lay on his neck, holding it tightly. But then… he felt how something was changing within her. "Stay with me", he whispered, "with us. We need you, don't leave."

Here's the final push – never before had Jesse used so many of her powers at once!

She can be proud of herself.

_Thank you, Trench..._

And then Jesse's aura exploded bright, coming through her back and chest.

Jagger's long and painful and ear-deafening shriek tore the air apart when the light of Jesse's aura hit her. But even as her figure started to burn away, she laughed maliciously.

"I can't die", echoed her voice faintly through the basement hall of the Oldest House. "I'll be back one day, and then I'll claim what is mine. None of you can stop me!"

Then Jagger dissolved, returning to the Dark Place she came from – and only after the space around them drowned in whiteness, erasing its features.


	13. The Darkest Hours VIII

**~Chapter 12~**

Wake's eyes got clouded as the whiteness stepped away. He felt particularly nothing, even the pain was gone. All the sounds faded, too. However, among the dead silence he heard a voice, talking like inside his head.

"I know it now", spoke Jesse, "your light is special. You never suspected it, but your powers are more stronger than you think. It was **_you_**. **_Your_** light... Keep it safe, Alan. You may use if for better times."

And right after, the sounds returned to him and the weak light of the outside world tried to break to him through the eyelids. Wake tried to open his eyes... but he failed.

Where was he?

Was he dreaming?

Or did this all just happen for real?

He tried to call Jesse's name, yet it was no use; he coughed hard, took a deep breath, and tried again.

"Ms. Faden? Jesse!" But instead of calling out loud like he wanted to, his voice was only a faint whisper. "W-where are you?"

"She's alright (right)", Wake heard another voice; the very one he seems to have heard when that ghostly essence was saving Scratch. "You'll be awake soon (soon)... Regain power... The Oldest House keeps your sleep safe... You only wait a bit (bit)."

"She's alright... regain power.... sleep...", mumbled Wake hoarsely, echoing the words of the ghostly presence— no, Trench! Jesse said that the presence was called Trench. He had watched over them all, interfered when he was needed the most, just like Zane did back at the Dark Place. Trench was the former Director of the Bureau, too, he was on their side...

And with that thought Wake let his mind slip away again.

To sleep, just like Trench had said.

"Now your time has come, Jesse."

A pale blue glow coming from the walls was shed upon Jesse when she came back into consciousness. She recognized this ceiling, looking like having been drawn with pastels on wet paper.

_Nice choice, Trench_, she thought. They are safe here.

The smell of blood stuck in her nose. She lifted her shaking hands, wounded, leaking dark red. She felt like she'll puke in any next second as her gut was twisting inside.

"Goddammit", she said to herself and nervously giggled. "I haven't failed us. We're good!"

Shaking from nerves and lost powers, Jesse sat on the floor, wiping her hands on the jacket and jeans to get rid of the blood.

Wake was lying near, with no cuts and wounds on his skin, including the one on the nape. He was sleeping, looking so peaceful and relieved. His healing sleep was that deep that he didn't react anyhow when Jesse crouched to him and turned him over on his back.

She slightly turned the head and saw the former Herald of Darkness being nearby as well – still unconscious but he, too, was alive, breathing.

"You did well, Jesse", whispered Trench. "You earned time to rest (rest)..."

And she smiled.

Having heard Jesse speaking from afar but near at the same time, Scratch stirred. There was another voice and that one was familiar, too. It was the very one that had whispered to him when Jagger tried to cover his mind once more with darkness after he refused her order – not to take him back like before, but to kill him.

He remembered he had refused the ghostly voice's advice, saying that he would rather die than to obey. So he must be dead. But if he was dead, how was he able to hear anything, to think... and to breathe, too?

He opened his eyes. There was only hazy whiteness all around, but after a moment found himself staring at a ceiling with colorful pattern.

That was unlike anything he had ever seen before. Was this… Heaven? No, those like him don't belong to such a place. They're sent straight to Hell when they die – not that the Dark Place itself wasn't already like Hell anyway.

He wanted to get up, to find out where he was, where **_they_** were, but he couldn't even move a finger, like paralyzed from a stranger force that could not be seen.

"Take my hand (hand)", the male voice appeared again, and he barely saw a ghostly silhouette standing above him.

A man in glasses that reflected any light; he was almost invisible, but a slight blue glow was flowing around his figure – too slight to hurt Scratch in any way.

Scratch looked at the man and shivered like from a cold, feeling nothing else but fear towards him. What if that ghostly appearance was evil, too? What if it worked for Jagger? What if it would try to take him over again?

He would be destined to go back to the Dark Place, to turn back to an immortal killer, hated and hunted by everyone – and without any strength to fight back against it, the darkness would take care of that.

But still, there lay something within the man's blue glowing aura, something that made him feel safe – for the very first time in his entire life.

"He's my friend", said Jesse somewhere close to him, "don't be afraid."

"You can do it (it)", said the ghost in his echoing voice. "I assure you (you)..."

And when the ghost straightened his hand, it became brighter and _more real_ to actually grab for it. Scratch closed his eyes and took a deep breath, then slowly, very slowly, he reached towards the man's hand, desperately hoping that it was the right choice.

The ghostly man clenched his wrist closely and pulled Scratch to his feet. And once he came to stand, the ghost released his hand again and dissolved into the pale glow of the walls.

And then he saw Jesse sitting on the floor nearby.

"You… you're here", he gasped, surprised, even though he had heard her voice before.

"Of course I am", Jesse said and smiled to him, seeing him finally free from the darkness. "Welcome back."

Scratch laid a hand onto the spot where the sword had been stuck before, the very weapon that had bound him to Jagger for more than three decades. The unbearable pain he felt before was gone, only a slight burning remained inside of his chest.

"Are we... are we dead?"

"No, Stupid, we are not!" she exclaimed, having recalled his style, and she slightly chuckled at seeing Scratch smirk. "Except him, at least", she added, nodding towards the spot where the ghost had disappeared "Trench is his name."

"Trench…" Scratch nodded his head a bit, sat on the floor too and smiled honestly towards Jesse, but after a moment his smile faded away.

"What happened back at the corridor…", he said, his face covered with deep guilt, "I didn't want to. I tried to resist but >_she_< didn't allow it."

"That's fine", Jesse said. "I saw it and I believe you."

"No, it's not", said Scratch and slightly shook the head. "I was weak, let her control me... I must pay for it." He glanced at Wake, who was still sleeping. "**_He_** will make me pay. He doesn't remember anything, otherwise he wouldn't have attacked me back at the cabin. He still hates me, and I don't blame him for it, after all that happened. He'll start to hunt me as soon as he wakes up. This circle will never end."

"No-no-no, he remembers almost everything now", said Jesse quickly. "The light I called up deep inside him", she pointed at her own nape, "it destroyed the last remains of his inner dark. I can swear you both will be alright now. We just have to wait for him to... you know", then she lowered her voice and added, "But, speaking between us, I won't let him go from the Oldest House and return to Alice until I'm completely sure of his state. You got me?"

"Sure, as if _you_ could stop him from that", said Scratch with a slight smirk "He would rather listen to >_her_< than to you."

Scratch then reached for his own neck and touched the spot Jesse had shot him, just before she had been taken to the Dark Place; there was a scar that would always remain.

"I can't even thank you enough for what you did for me", he said. "You could've killed me or just let me die on so many occasions... but you didn't. Thanks for that."

"N-no problem, I guess?", Jesse sighed in embarrassment and looked away. The pain in her body was slowly coming back, but she decided to handle it, just like she always does. "I'm just doing my task."

"And you're doing it very well", said Scratch and raised the head towards the glowing ceiling. "I owe you big time for the rest of my life, Director. And also your friend, I mean, _Trench_. You two just let me know if you ever need me."

"You can bet on that."

Just then Wake stirred in his sleep. He seemed to slowly return to them.

Scratch noticed it, and when he looked at the writer for a moment, he smirked slightly.

"I just have an idea", he said with a chuckle. "Watch this... It's gonna be priceless..."

Jesse opened her mouth from surprise.

"N-no, no", she whispered, "don't you dare, don't..!"

"Shh... I won't hurt him, don't worry." Scratch smirked more and he sat onto the ground next to Wake, leaning towards him, their faces only an inch away from another.

"Back to work, writer", he said loudly, faking the cold and sharp voice of his former self. "You must finish what you started! Do as you are told!"

Just as Scratch intended it, the writer jolted up, screaming in surprise and fear. And before Wake could give it a second thought, he had already hit Scratch right into the face, giving his evil twin a nosebleed.

"Scratch, you— I—", yelled Wake. "You… you bastard! I hate you! I always will!"

He made an attempt to bring his fist down into Scratch's face again, but Scratch dodged and stood up instead.

"And I appreciate it, Wake." Scratch smirked even more and slightly bowed towards him. "More than you could ever imagine."

Jesse snorted and hid her face in palms, screwing the fact they're still covered in dry blood.

"For God's sake, don't make me shoot you again! I'm so tired of aiming my gun at you."

"There's no need, Director", said Scratch and covered his nose with a hand to stop the bleeding. "It was a small joke, nothing else."

"As you wish", Jesse smirked, too. "Easy there, Alan, easy", she said and caught Wake's wrist when he tried to lift it a third time. "No more fight, please. If you want to know, I **_tried_** to dissuade him from that."

Wake glanced hatefully towards Scratch for another moment, but then he looked at Jesse worried, when her hands started shaking again.

"You're not okay, Ms. Faden."

Scratch noticed it too and stepped closer as well.

"What's wrong, Director?"

_Dammit_, she thought and hissed at herself – letting them worry for her was the least thing she wanted. And yet she couldn't stop shivering anymore.

"I'm okay, it's okay, I just... guess I overworked for today."

No matter how much she was struggling with it, the pain and tiredness won in this inner battle. Having felt exhaustion coming, she gave up and laid down near Wake and leaned her forehead to his shoulder.

"It's alright", whispered Wake to her ear. "You must rest, too. Sleep. We won't let anybody hurt you, right, Scratch?"

"Sure thing", said Scratch with a slight smirk. "We'll shoot anybody who gets too close – well, Wake will. I'll keep them from running away."

He slightly moved a hand, making a faint shadow sparkling between his fingers, but it faded away again almost instantly.

"Dammit", he hissed and glanced up to the ceiling, "You could've at least left me a small glimpse of my powers, Trench. Not all of them are evil, y'know?"

"Don't blame him for that", said Jesse. "He just did what he thought is for your best."

"I know, it's just...", Scratch gnashed his teeth. "I can't defend you when I have too, I can't even defend myself. I'm useless like an ordinary human."

"You're not..." she whispered "None of you two is."

Scratch didn't answer anything anymore. Instead he just laid a hand on Jesse's shoulder and stroked it absently, lost in thoughts.

"We're safe in here", she said with weakened voice. "If the House starts changing, I'll be first to know."

For now, though, she had a short-living right to be weak. Yet she refused being weak. Instead, she was still grasping for her consciousness by moving her eyes to look around.

"Sleep, Ms. Faden", said Wake. "No need to fight it. You deserve to rest."

_Here's 'Ms. Faden' again_, Jesse thought and smiled a little.

"You can call me Jesse", she said out loud, "after all we've been through."

Their warmth, at last, assured her that every choice she made today was true and real, and she managed to save both of them, just like she wished.

She closed her eyes and within a few moments the exhaustion got the better of her, letting consciousness dissolve into blackness and silence. And while she slept deeply under Trench's protection, something hidden within her subconsciousness was lifted from its dark depths.


	14. The Lost Manuscript I

**~Chapter 13~**

_[Several days ago]_

The final call Jesse had been waiting for came much earlier than she expected.

Diving deeper and deeper into their investigation, collecting clues and hints, analyzing them, putting them all together in hope to reveal the greater picture, Jesse soon learned that her agency wasn't the only one being on the writers track – the FBI was leading their own investigation too; some of Jesse's agents had discovered this faint trace a few weeks after she questioned Jack Joyce.

It almost felt like a coincidence, yet there was no way she would let it slip away. Everything happens for a reason after all, there is no such thing as coincidences.

And so – having taken a flight to Washington D.C. – she once more walked into a federal office.

"Ms. Saga Anderson? My name is Jesse Faden, FBC. You should have been warned about my arrival."

The blonde woman looked at her suspiciously… and scared when she closed the door behind herself.

"As I know, you were investigating the disappearance of Alan Wake."

"Yes, uh… yes… Excuse me."

Saga covered her mouth with a palm, likely remembering something very dark from her past.

"Me and my former partner have been searching for him", she said after a while. "And we actually found some traces proving that he's alive. But… people have been talking they've seen his hideout in the woods. And my partner… He was killed there… I told him not to go alone… I was too late to help him", she sniffed. "I've seen that guy. The one who murdered him. He tried to kill me, too! I've been in the hospital for several weeks after that, my memories may be blurry. And yet, I believe it was _him_, you know? The writer. He killed, I saw him with my own eyes."

Jesse quickly wrote a few sentences down in her notebook.

"Your partner's name, by chance, is Alex Casey?" she asked then, having lifted her glance again.

"What?!" Saga snorted. "This is the main character of that freak! My partner's name was…" she silenced for a moment, frowning, as if trying to recall something that had slipped from her mind, "it… it was…"

"However", said Jesse toughly, interrupting her. "I have some other mentions, and in different papers your deceased partner _officially_ goes by the name of Alex Casey."

"Wha– what kind of nonsense is this!"

Jesse turned away her head and – no matter the seriousness of this situation – couldn't help but smirking. Wake told her in one of their typewriter talks that the memory of those not aware of the reality-bending powers will adapt itself towards the new situation. They don't forget, though. It's more that there is nothing to remember after the change.

She's on the right track. And this was getting more and more interesting.

"Ms. Faden!" Saga managed to run towards Jesse before she went out from the FBI-building.

"Here", she handed Jesse a few dirty pages. "I think you may need them… since it's now you who's into searching for Wake, right?"

"What's that?" Jesse looked at the papers.

_Return_ was the title, typewritten in pitch-black letters. And just below that single word there was the name of the author: _By Alan Wake_.

"These are the pages we've discovered in his hideout", Saga said. "I guess you should keep them. You better know what to do with it."

And right after Saga left without saying any farewell word.

"Sorry for not saying it earlier, Wake, I needed time to think. But now I need to talk to you."

A few days later Jesse was sitting near Wake on the table. Somehow she knew she was just dreaming and the image of Wake before her eyes may be not real, yet no matter _if_ it's really him in her dream or just her imagination… she was eager to talk.

"I was given this recently." She laid several dirty pages on the table. "How can you explain it?"

Wake looked at her for a while, then picked the sheets up, hesitating to read them, but in the end he did.

"_Wake had a bloody knife in his hand… …the light of the flashlight… …he smiled when looking at… …blood on his face… …a shadow laid on the wound, stopping the bleeding… … …lied on the floor… …eyes staring…_" – that's was could be read in there, Only a few scattered words left on the otherwise blank paper, yet they were more than enough to give a glimpse to what was implied.

Wake's face went pale.

"No", he gasped. "That's not… I'm not… it's not true! I didn't write this!"

"Who else could?" Jesse asked. "I'm sorry to break it to you, but I seriously doubt that anybody has an interest of writing about you. And it's your name on the title."

"I don't know who wrote it, but _I_ didn't!" said Wake. His eyes were still focused on the manuscript page and his hand began to shake. "I don't remember any of this! If I had done it, I should remember, but I don't!"

"Wake, chill. I'm investigating, you know? I promised you, I will drag you out as soon as we figure out how it's possible. But until that happens, I _need_ to know who you really are – and what to _expect_ from you. You're not just an ordinary human."

"I _told_ you who I am. You researched about me _yourself_. You _know_ every little detail of my life, perhaps even better than myself!" Wake kept clutching the manuscript, his hands were still shaking. "I didn't kill anybody… I didn't! It was _him_. Of course it was, it's always the psycho!"

"I know", Jesse sighed and took away the pages from his hands. "You're right. And yet there are still some slight details I can't explain. And you seem to block me the way to know. Well, not you, really. Something _inside_ you does."

As she said it, she jumped down on the floor and walked to a huge board cluttered with photos, notes and writings.

"I would tell you if I could, but I can't!" said Wake, following her with his glance. "This bastard", he whispered then, more to himself than to anybody else. "I swear, I'll kill him when I get my hands on him… and I'll make him suffer for every person he killed in my name."

Jesse took a long pause, standing with her back to him. And when Wake silenced, she looked at him over a shoulder and ripped one of the papers from the board – the photo of a man with a piercing-through glance.

"Have you ever seen him?"

Wake looked at her and as he glanced towards the photo, a strange expression lay in his eyes for less than a second, before it was gone again.

"His name is Alex Casey", she continued, as he didn't answer. "Did you know him?"

"Casey… it's the name of my book's protagonist", Wake said after a moment. He sighed and tore his eyes from the photo. "What happened to him? Did the psycho kill him, too?"

"Maybe", said Jesse cagily.

"I don't like your tone, Ms. Faden", said Wake. "He did kill that guy, right? I swear I'll make him pay for it!"

"And Saga Anderson?", Jesse asked "I don't remember her being in your books."

"I haven't heard that name before", said Wake and slightly shook the head. "Is she involved in all this, too?"

"She was hurt, but managed to survive", Jesse said with a shrug. "And since then, she blames you for attacking her." She hung the photo back and turned around. "Anyway, Wake, don't deny the fact you actually _did_ kill Casey. In your books, at least."

"But it's _fiction_ Ms. Faden", said Wake seriously. "it's not reality!"

_Wrong_, he thought. _Fiction can become reality, you experienced it yourself, Wake, don't deny it._

"Of course she blames me", he said out loud, trying to distract himself from the guilty feeling that rose inside of his chest. "That psycho looks like me, he has the same voice, he even uses my name. Everyone will think it was me!"

Suddenly he grabbed Jesse's wrist and she startled, though just a bit.

"You _must_ set this right! Don't worry about the details, I'll take care of them… but make sure that my name won't get corrupted even more!"

"Like I said to you, Wake", she said, quickly bringing her coldness back, "I'll make sure of your name to be clarified when you are back to people, but I can't promise it to you now until I'm not sure of your own capability to keep your mind sane."

"I'm perfectly sane, Ms. Faden, I always was!" Wake released her hand and looked at her for a long moment. "Alright", he said eventually. "What exactly do you want to know? Ask me anything and I _will tell you_."

Jesse smirked in a strange way.

"I think your actions say it by themselves. You're trapped in the so-called _Dark Place_ which is full of immersive intoxicating energy. You simply may not notice it when your mind betrays you."

"My mind _doesn't_ betray me!" Wake slammed a fist to the table, barely noticing the pain that shot up into his arm. "I didn't—"

"Think about it". Jesse cut off his sentence off before he could even finish it, "I am not your enemy, Wake, I want you to _think_!"

"I know you're not my enemy", snarled Wake, "but you're trying to talk me into things I didn't do! You're suspecting me, you're doubting me, you're treating me as if I was some kind of criminal!"

"You are dealing with a Federal Agent of Control, first of all", Jesse had to raise her voice, too, as she sensed Wake's instability. "It's my job to _control_ everything and everyone standing on my way. It isn't meant to be in a bad way, though, but as long as I have to keep in touch to you, I need you, too, to be _in control_."

"I _am_ in control!" Wake absently rubbed his hand, but he didn't lower his voice. "If I wasn't I wouldn't be here! I _know_ what the Dark Place can do to me when I lose control, but I learned to deal with it after all these years! It didn't happen ever again since I was in Arizona; my mind is clear ever since I was facing >_him_<! I'm not insane, Ms. Faden, I am _not_."

"_Being insane_ is very much different from _being not_ _in_ _control_. In the second case, you still have something to do. In the first one, you're just a cage of bones that changes nothing."

Wake didn't answer on that. Instead he glanced at the stained pages.

"It's not the whole manuscript", he said, still almost shouting at her. "Where's the rest?"

"The rest is gone", Jesse said toughly, hoping that her harsh tone will keep him reasonable. "This is everything I was given."

"It can't be gone… if it's not anywhere in reality, it must be here somewhere." Wake cracked the knuckles of his hands; his eyes suddenly focused on something unseen for Jesse. "I'll find it… change it… I'll set this right. All of it."

"Wake?" Jesse took a step closer to him, but Wake didn't answer. He just walked up and down through the room, reaching for something invisible here and there, moving his hands as if he was opening any doors or drawers, despite there was nothing to be seen.

Jesse was watching him for a while without disturbing him.

"Wake", she then said again in impatience, "what's up?"

"I'm searching for the manuscript of course! Isn't that obvious?!", he snapped, still opening the invisible drawers and doors.

"I doubt very much they are here", said Jesse, shaking her head.

"Not at your place… at _my_ place, Ms. Faden."

_Obviously. His place_, she thought. The Dark Place. But still, he couldn't know where exactly to search, even if the manuscript was there.

"Wake, how can you be sure they are in _your place_?" She asked with slight doubt. "You've never seen my pages before."

"It's better than to just sit and wait, right?"

"Of course it is! I've never said it's not!" Jesse frowned, still watching him from behind, and again shook the head when Wake only commented her words with a frustrated snort.

But then, suddenly, a hand laid down on Jesse's shoulder and out of nowhere a coldness like from ice crept through the cloth of her jacket, numbing the skin beneath. She shuddered from that touch. What the hell? Should she turn around? Or should she stand still?

With no further thinking, she straightened her hand back to reach someone behind, without looking.

"Whatever you do, don't scream", whispered a familiar voice next to her ear; it was just as sharp and cold just like the stitching feeling that burned on her shoulder. "Screaming makes me angry. And you don't want me to get angry. Remember what it led to last time."

The recognition of this voice slightly weakened her fear, but not much. She took a deep breath and turned around to meet eyes with him.

It was the writer who looked back at her, and yet it wasn't. Wearing a suit rather than a tweed jacket, the man smirked at Jesse maliciously. A dark twinkle flickered through his blue eyes for less than a second, yet no trace of warmth remained in them as it disappeared.

"You?" she whispered, barely having moved her lips.

"Of course", he whispered back. "Have you expected anybody else?" Still smirking, Scratch raised his glance at Wake. "It's cute, isn't it? That he still thinks he can change what was already written… or that he could even stop me. What a naïve fool he is."

Jesse tried to stay calm. And for now, she seemed to succeed.

"Well, what would you do in his shoes if someone kills people pretending to be yourself?" she quietly said to him, just like before. "You, too, would do everything you can to stop it, no matter how or what price it takes."

"Oh, you have no idea about all the >_how_< and >_why_< and >_what_<, Director. None at all."

Scratch kept looking at the writer, who – unaware to what happened at the Oldest House – still searched for the manuscript he shall never find. "You simply don't know how things _work_ at the Dark Place. How could you, anyway? You've never been there…"

_Yes, he's right_, she thought; she didn't know the Dark Place's rules of existence. So what? May he dare to pull her into there!

And Jesse cringed a bit. He provoked her to begin the mind fight. But no, hell no, she's a too tough cookie to be tricked so easily.

"What does the way the Dark Place _works_ has to do with people you killed?" Jesse said defiantly and cocked her head.

"It has _everything_ to do with it, Director. Every little detail you could ever imagine."

As he said it, a flow of darkness looking like black ink formed on his palm, sparkling between his fingers for a second, and when it faded away again, he was holding dirty sheets of paper that appeared straight from thin air.

Jesse gasped almost soundlessly. The very pages that Wake needs! And yet… yet they were looking different from those she got given by Anderson, there was much more written on it.

Scratch smirked at the confusion on her face and lowered his eyes to the manuscript, reading a sentence here, another there…

"Well well, that clears things up", he said eventually. "You'll find out yourself soon, don't worry. I'm sure Wake didn't miss the chance to let you catch a glimpse first hand."

More of the ink like shadows formed between his fingers, yet these didn't fade away like before, but spread onto the manuscript. And as the letters slowly dissolved into nothingness, suddenly a sharp thought pierced through Jesse's mind:

_You don't simply kill them. They are not dead… They are **Taken**._

"Give it back", she hissed and straightened a hand to him. "Give the papers back or I'll cut over my dream. Let me tell you it may hurt."

"I don't think so, Director", he said, smirking mockingly as he raised the pages out of Jesse's reach. "Perhaps it will hurt, but pain isn't anything I'm not used to. _Him_ on the other hand", Scratch nodded at Wake who kneeled on the ground as if to search beneath a piece of furniture, "he's really vulnerable these days, you know? He might not get out of this unharmed. It's for the best, really, believe me."

"For the best for who?" she snarled, but Scratch didn't answer.

"You won't dare to cut it over", he hissed instead, still holding the manuscript tightly as the darkness kept burning the typewritten words away, while leaving the paper untouched. "It'll kill Wake if you do. Do you really want to risk that?"

"Then give it **_back_**!"

Suddenly her voice broke, became much louder and higher, and as she nearly screamed… the room they were in shook violently and began changing, slightly melting into new forms.

Wake jolted as if shaken from a trance. He had been so focused on finding the manuscript tht, for a moment, he forgot everything around him, even the fact that he was still in the dream copy of the Oldest House. He jumped to his feet and turned around… and then he saw who made Jesse scream – the very man who was the spitting image of himself.

"**_You_**!" Wake charged towards them and suddenly his appearance got clearer, more solid, more _real_ as if he had crossed an invisible border between Jesse's dream and the Dark Place. He barreled into Scratch, slamming him to the ground; a short gasp of surprise escaped from the Herald's lips – and this very second of unawareness was enough to loosen his grip on the manuscript; the pages fell to the ground, just like the flashlight that slipped out of Wake's jacket as they both hit the floor hard, but Wake barely noticed it, grabbed his doppelgänger by the shirt collar instead. "How dare you come here?!", he yelled, his face twisted with rage. "I'll kill you, Scratch, even if it's the last thing I ever do!"

_I am in control… I am._

Jesse took a deep breath, slid to Wake's flashlight and took it along with the scattered pages from the floor. As she did it, the room stopped changing but remained in its half-melted state.

_Keep yourself together_, she thought. _We will win this_.

"Stop it! Both of you!"

She raised the flashlight and shed its beam into the corner, shining on something distorted and glassy. The light of the flashlight reflected from the broken surface, making the whole room much more brighter, and while Scratch shortly winced, Wake didn't react at all on the brighter light… or Jesse's words either.

Still holding for Scratch's neck with one hand, Wake reached into the Herald's jacket with the other. And when he pulled his hand back, Wake had a bloody knife in his hand, the very weapon that Scratch carried everywhere he went.

Strangely enough, though, Scratch didn't fight back, not even as Wake pressed the knife to his cheek, drawing a trace of blood on his face; he didn't say anything either, only a mocking smirk formed on his lips while he looked straight into the writer's eyes, without the slightest trace of fear inside of his own.

"You'll pay for what you did", hissed Wake and raised the knife. He smiled when looking at Scratch, and even more when the Herald closed his eyes.

_Stop it, Jesse_, she thought in fear. She needed them alive. Both of them. Only having them together, she will know the whole truth, the whole meaning of it all.

She bared her gun and an ear-splitting noise tore the air apart when she shot to the floor near the two opponents.

"This is _my_ dream", she screamed, "it's _me_ to decide what you should do!" As a proof, the walls of the room growled in movement and Wake froze still in his motion, yet he didn't lower the knife.

"Maybe it's _your_ dream", he said, his voice dripping with cold hate. "but he is _my_ enemy. You have no idea how long I've waited for this chance, how many times I failed before. He _must_ _pay_ for what he did, for all the people he murdered, for all the things he will do if I let him escape now!"

"Sure, go ahead then!" Jesse roared, knowing that she wasn't the one to stop him. Not if he truly wished to take revenge on his enemy, Wake was stubborn as a tree after all. And yet… "But I doubt it you'll succeed now all of the sudden", she added.

_Because the pages don't lie…_

"Yeah, go ahead, Wake", echoed Scratch mockingly. Another smirk formed on his face, but he keeps his eyes closed. "You'll regret it if you don't!"

Wake kept looking at Scratch, but his hands started shaking. "I-I'm not… I'm not like you, Scratch. I don't kill you just for fun… but because you deserve it!"

And then Wake brought the knife down, stabbing it right into Scratch's chest.

Jesse startled at seeing that, yet she didn't say a word, didn't make any sound.

She was waiting.

_Please, let it work_, she thought, _let it work, it should be different!_

Scratch gasped as the blade sliced through skin and flesh.

Hell, it hurt quite much, despite it was his own weapon piercing into his lungs. Or maybe… it hurt that much _because_ of it? Not that it mattered anyway…

With one fluid motion Scratch knocked Wake away, grabbed the knife to pull it out of his chest… and as he dropped the blade to the ground he felt something stirring within his blood.

Of course it did.

No human was able to kill him after all, not as long as the darkness within protected him from injuries that would be lethal to anybody else.

After a few moments glowing shadows leaked from the wounds on his cheek and chest, covering them like a translucent band-aid and stopping the bleeding.

"You're not in control, Wake", he said and stood up like nothing unusual had happened. "Not in this case anyway. No matter how hard you try to tell it to yourself."

"Oh God!" Jesse screamed and ran to them, then stood still without knowing what to do next, lean to check Wake or—

-_… a shadow laid on the wound, stopping the bleeding…_-

"You didn't have to knock him down!" She waved the pages before Scratch's face. "I wanted you both to speak to me!"

The walls creaked again, but froze once more as Jesse stopped speaking.

"You're right about that, I should do way worse to him." Scratch chuckled as he traced a finger over the glowing wound on his cheek that already started to disappear. "Next time you should go for the throat, writer. It'll be messy, but it's way more effective, believe me."

"Oh, of course _you_ know best about things like that!" Wake scrambled to his feet and quickly picked up the knife from the ground, holding it close, afraid that Scratch would claim it back. "You _wanted_ us to speak to you?" he said then, glancing at Jesse from the corner of his eye. "You mean you _invited_ him here?!"

"No, I didn't mean to _invite_ him, Wake", said Jesse. "But as we gathered here anyway, it should be easier for us all to solve the common misunderstandings."

She circled the room with the flashlight's beam, looked around and smiled - the room restored its original form. She's doing it right.

"Yet I was waiting for you, Herald. And here you are. So I have to warn you that you may leave my dream in any case but you will _not_ leave the Oldest House until any agent of the Bureau removes the protection barrier I asked to put."

">_Protection Barrier_<? Now we're talking, Director", said Scratch and another smirk formed on his lips. "I wonder if I could break it… or rather, how long it'll take. It's only a matter of time, anyway. Nothing can stop me entirely."

"Save your powers for a better time", Jesse smirked back. "But now, tell me, Herald. What's the real reason for you to mess up with Wake's life? I don't believe it's just a joy of taking his place. There is more, I can feel it."

"That's none of _your_ business", said Scratch with a mocking snort and crossed his arms in front of his chest. "

"It is my business, because **_you made it my business_**." She pointed the flashlight to his hand. "You better tell me, we three are bound now."

"Bound? You're kidding me. And wasting my time." Scratch pulled his hand away from the light and only after he looked at Wake. "You still got something that belongs to me, writer. Give it to me, I'm leaving."

"Not even in _your_ dreams!" Wake shook his head and grabbed the knife even closer, threateningly raising the tip of the blade towards Scratch's chest again. "Stay back! I won't hesitate to stab you a second time!"

And then, the air was torn with a scary loud sound of something collapsing. Or breaking. But the room was fine; it only shook a little bit.

_I'm in control_, Jesse thought, _the room mustn't change_! Yet it just began to twist again; the walls were screeching in pain of the slight cracks that appeared all over them, growing larger and larger with every second passing.

No, that wasn't her handiwork. Something was happening -**_outside_**-, outside her body, outside her dream. Something was wrong in the Bureau itself.

And in the same moment she realized it, the curving room darkened for a second.

"No… Not now, no!" Jesse screamed.

"Ms. Faden, what is happening?" Wake's voice was surprised, but also scared. Then he grabbed Scratch's jacket again, pulling him closer. "Stop it, you bastard" he snarled and once more raised the knife in his hands… yet this time he leaned it towards Scratch's throat – seemingly to the Herald's delight, as he smirked when the blade drew a trace of blood.

"You're learning, Wake. Maybe there's still hope for you."

"Stop it, I said!"

"That's not him, that's…" And when a huge echoing howl crashed on her ears, Jesse gasped. "…the Hiss", she then whispered in fear.

">_The Hiss<_?" asked Wake and lowered the knife, his glance quickly switching between Jesse's terrified face, and Scratch, who smirked knowingly. "What is >_the Hiss<_?"

"Get out of my head, _now_!"

In rush and panic Jesse reached Wake's free hand to give him back his flashlight. But as she touched his skin… a small, almost invisible shadow came from beneath it, lurking on his fingers for just a second before it disappeared again.

_What… what's that_, she thought. _Can't be… He's slowly losing it._

And yet… Wake didn't seem to notice it.

"How… how do I get out?" he asked instead.

"Anyhow!" she yelled and leaned his flashlight to his chest. "I'm about to wake, I don't know what's outside, maybe I'm even about to be _killed_, don't want to let it touch you!"

"You enter her dream and don't even know how to get out again? You're such an idiot, writer!" Scratch snarled at him. He wrested the knife from Wake's grip with one hand while with the other he grabbed the writer at the wrist. "I'm not supposed to even do this but… nrgh, screw it!"

Dark flows leaked from Scratch's fingers, wrapping around both of their hands… and only a second later they both dissolved from Jesse's dream.

It happened all so quickly.

She had not time left to scream, to call their names, to regret of pushing them away…

Her consciousness was forcibly dragged out into reality.

Jesse was laying in something like bathtub or sarcophagus, with lots of detectors on her head. Three agents outside her dream must have watched her sleep, monitoring and recording everything she heard in the dream. She threw away the detectors and looked around.

They were dead, lying with empty eyes. One with a gapping throat wound, another with his chest ripped open, the third with the head smashed into meat…

Nothing like in the remains of Wake's manuscript.

This was her story now.

Her body started shivering. Jesse hardly managed to get up from the bathtub and turn off the records on the computer next to her. Its screen was half-broken, but the system, thank God, was working well.

"_…even about to be killed, don't want to let it touch you_!"

She heard her own voice through the noise of dynamics.

"_You enter… and don't even know how to … such an idiot, writer_!"

The rest of the recording was barely heard.

Dammit. They've been recording **_her_**, but not **_themselves_**. She glanced at the lifeless bodies again and gulped. She should have been next! And yet something had shooed that beast away from her, something had saved her. But the whispering walls prophesied returning danger, _it_ may be back soon if she doesn't move on.

"I'm sorry, guys…", she whispered. "I'm so sorry…"


	15. The Lost Manuscript II

**~Chapter 14~**

A few hours later Jesse wandered through the corridor of one of the highest floors, alone, among the dead bodies left behind by the Hiss.

The protection barrier keeping the outside world safe from the horrors of the Oldest House seemed to work well despite of everything. No one would leave it without a warning signal.

That means the Herald of Darkness may still be here. As well as Wake. However…

Wake has never been here _completely_, he was still trapped in the Dark Place after all. He told her himself: no matter how long he tried to grasp for reality, it forcibly dragged him away again.

The Herald was different, though. She could have sworn he must be here not only in her mind, but in the flesh. She only needed to find him. And quickly. Before any of them gets killed.

As she walked through the corridor, her attention got caught by a faint, yet familiar voice.

"…not bad… strong…", it whispered somewhere down the hallway, almost too quiet to understand. "…break it anyway… won't stop me, nobody can… only a matter of time…"

Jesse prepared her gun while she slowly, almost soundlessly, walked to the room where the voice came from and peaked through the space between its doors.

Scratch stood with his back to her, touching the wall in front of him in various places, as if searching for something invisible to the human eye, something only he was able to see. Even if he noticed her presence, he obviously didn't care about it.

Jesse pushed the door open and stepped inside.

"Don't you even try to escape", she said, crossing her arms. "The barrier longs over the whole building, up and down. Do you need to know how many floors we have?"

"No need for that, Director." Scratch chuckled, but he still didn't turn around. "I already figured out how many _core points_ your barrier has. That's more than enough for me. I won't let you trap me in here."

He kept touching across the wall, then his fingers tightened around something unseen—

"Gotcha!"

—and when he turned his hand as if flicking an old light switch, the wall started glowing in a pale blue. "One down, six to go…"

_Oh shit,_ Jesse thought, _he mustn't break it, not now, when the Hiss is still somewhere in the House!_

"Stop it right there!" She raised her gun and pointed it at Scratch "This is not only about _us_, Herald, we have worse problems here."

"It's not _our_ problem, it's _yours_. And I don't care about _your_ problems."

"These are going to be _your_ problems, too", said Jesse, "as with yourself you may release an unpredictable being that hunts for keepers of any huge energy and regrets nothing. Who knows what will happen if it detects such ones outside the House. You may have nowhere to run."

"And _you_ underestimate me. Save your pathetic worries for those who need them."

Finally Scratch turned around to her. His eyes shortly came to rest at the gun, but he didn't seem to be impressed about this threat.

"You can't kill me with a simple gunshot, I told you before", he said instead, a smirk forming on his lips. "And you saw what happened when Wake tried to stab me. It's no different with that toy of yours."

"My gun is different. Yes, it might not kill you instantly, but it'll hurt you more than you think", she said, smirking back at him, yet her lips were shaking at the fear that stirred inside of her – she remembered the last time when she had aimed her gun at him very well. And still she forcibly pushed that feeling away and grabbed her gun harder to keep her hands from trembling – this was not the time to be weak!

"I told you I'm used to pain, so go for it!" Still smirking, Scratch stepped closer towards Jesse, quickly covering the distance between them until the gun was touching his chest. "Go for it!" he repeated, looking straight into her eyes. "Shoot me, but I bet you don't have the nerves to!"

"Alright. Not there, though, I need you alive for now."

She raised the gun to his right shoulder and as she pulled the trigger, an ear-deafening noise sliced through the air, followed by glowing energy particles that shattered from the shot, scattering all around.

Scratch fell to his knees, yelping from the hot waves of pain that flowed through his body when the bullet tore skin and muscle apart.

It… it shouldn't be like this. Not at all. The darkness inside was supposed to protect him from any kind of harm, and especially from the pain that came with it.

Once more he felt the darkness coursing within his blood stirring. And yet… yet it took much longer until the translucent shadows leaked from the wound, and even more time until it started to heal the damaged flesh and bone, nowhere near as fast as it did when Wake stabbed him.

Her gun was indeed special. And so was she herself, no doubt on that.

"Not… not bad, Director. I didn't expect y-you to really do it", he hissed through his clenched teeth, breathing heavily and holding for his injured shoulder with the left hand. He raised his eyes and there was no trace of fear laying in them, despite the gun was still aimed at him. Instead he still smirked, his face twisted with pain. "But it felt good to take revenge, didn't it? Remember, it's my fault that your agents are dead. Now end it; you must finish what you started! Then you don't have to worry anymore whether or not I'll break your pathetic barrier!"

"Nrgh, I never said that!" Jesse roared seeing Scratch taking her for a fool, and lowered her gun. "I know it wasn't you. You're not the cause, you're just a detail in the destiny machine. That would have happened anyway sooner or later, unfortunately, **_but still_** I can't let you destroy the barrier and I want you to stay alive until we finally get rid of that beast. Got it?"

"I didn't say it was _me_ who killed them", said Scratch, still kneeling on the ground, while the shadow around his shoulder kept patching the wound up. "I said that they would've still be _alive_ if I hadn't been here. That's a difference, y'know? You met the writer because you wanted to question him about the death of that other federal. But if that guy hadn't been killed in the first place, there wouldn't have been any reason for you to set this whole dream-watch up. Your little Hiss pet wouldn't have been awaked from its slumber… and your agents would still be alive." Scratch tapped his own forehead and stood up, still holding his shoulder as he rose to his feet. "Think about it, Director, you know I'm right."

His words made actual sense. It's hard to accept the world needs to sacrifice people to make the others become better and stronger. But it was true. She always knew it.

And she nodded.

"You couldn't know about me back then, when you killed Casey, though. It's just a road of coincidences."

"Perhaps it was… but perhaps it's not. Who says that I haven't known about you before? You have no idea about anything that's going on between the dimensions. Not the slightest at all."

Suddenly Scratch grabbed Jesse's hand. He forcefully wrested the gun from her fingers and threw it out into the corridor, then he turned around to face the wall again, continuing to touch it with his left hand as his right one – despite still covered by the translucent band-aid – was still useless because of the shot. "Just because I didn't hurt you in your dream, it doesn't mean I won't hurt you here. So be the hell gone, before I snap your neck!"

Jesse froze still with shock for a second when Scratch took away her gun. It was too far now, he'll most likely catch her if she tries to get it back.

But he won't take her hidden weapon away.

She lifted her hands - and several tables and chairs moved to Scratch and pinned him to the wall. With a glimpse of satisfaction she noticed the confusion on his face, despite it reflected in his eyes for less than a second.

"Where is Wake?!", she snapped and took a step forward, keeping her hands raised an she looked around the room they were in, despite knowing from the start that they were alone.. "He's not here anymore, right? Tell me he's still in _there_!"

Scratch didn't answer on that.

"I knew you're special, Director", he said instead. "I knew from the first moment I got to learn about you. It would be a true honor to work with you…"

Chuckling slightly, Scratch tapped against the concrete of the wall behind himself. Dark sparks scattered from his fingertips and they shattered the gravity-field Jesse had created, making the tables and chairs dropping to the ground, along with himself. And as he came to stand on his feet again, he once more straightened a hand to reach for the wall behind. Looking straight into her eyes, he turned another invisible switch around, and the color of the wall changed from blue to green. In the same moment a loud otherworldly howl tore the silence apart – and despite it was echoing from far away, it was still clear enough to bring a grin to Scratch's face.

"Oops, that was the second one. I guess you're running out of time, Director. Don't worry about the writer, though, he's safe for now… well, as safe as a human can be at the Dark Place", he added after a moment with another chuckle.

He's playing with her. And she wasn't able to predict his next steps. So annoying to feel tricked, as if it all was just to finally make her leave him alone! Enough of that performance, he can be honest to her without his circus jokes.

Prevail or die, that's the rule of today.

_Oh Wake, may you be strong enough to hold on a bit longer…_

She'll find the way. She promised.

Jesse took control over the desk at the corner, pushed it to Scratch and sent it fly with him to the other side of the room. Then, she waved her right hand, and her lost gun flew right back to her like it was magnetic.

"This is _my_ House! This is _my_ place!"

As she screamed it, she touched the wall, and the walls howled in reply, listening to the unhearable whispers of her powers, and as their howl continued growing, her rainbow aura revealed itself and soaked into the concrete, shining with an almost blinding intensity.

Scratch heard his own bones crack when he hit the wall hard, but even though he knew that at least one of his ribs must have broken from the impact, it didn't hurt him…

Unlike the bright glow all around.

The Director's aura was different, so very different from anything else he had ever experienced before: it burned on his skin like a liquid fire that became stronger with each second passing.

She was truly special.

"Rage is a wonderful emotion, isn't it?", he hissed through the growing pain, instinctively raising an arm to shield his eyes from the hurting light. "Makes you think much less about the consequences of your actions."

"Believe me, I am _thinking_", Jesse said calmly, and leaned her palm closer to the wall. "I'm in **_control_**. Hold on a bit, I'm almost done."

The rainbow glow coming from her spread around the room, redrawing its features, the walls changed colors again, from green to blue. And as the glow grew weaker and Jesse took her hand away from the wall, the blue faded away into the usual grey of the concrete – the protection barrier of the Oldest House was restored.

"Phew. And don't you try to break it again. Don't make me repeat what I've done."

Scratch gasped almost silently and lowered his arm when the light faded away.

"Such strong powers…", he whispered, observing the burned skin of his hand as it got covered by the same translucent shadows like the wound on his shoulder. "It's a real shame that you don't want them to use properly. Together we could achieve really great things, y'know? Following _my_ plan of course, not _yours…_"

He pushed the desk away from himself, and – having raised to his feet – laid a hand on the wall again, once more trying to reach for the invisible switch of the barrier.

"You hid them elsewhere. Sneaky", he said, with an expression on his face that was laying somewhere between surprise and satisfaction. "Alright, I'm listening to you, Director. At least for now. What do you want?"

"I want you to not leave the House and stay on my sight, although you can go and even do everything you wish in here - well, expect killing me", she grinned, "as I'll be… observing you and examining your powers. I'll let you out as soon as me and my agents destroyed the Hiss and we won't stand in your way. Because you know what? I need you alive. _For Wake_. Should I explain? Or do you seem to get it?"

">_Examining my powers_<? Hell, no, Director, I won't make it that easy for you."

Scratch snapped his fingers and slightly gasped from the returning pain of both his shoulder and the burn marks on his skin when the translucent shadows faded away. "I-it's none of your business how my powers work. But tell me more about the writer", he added with a chuckle, trying to the cover the trembling of his voice in a mockingly, "why do you need to keep me alive for him?"

Jesse leaned on the wall nearby Scratch and crossed her arms, however still holding her gun closely.

"Remember you said that you kind of killed Casey to make me organize that dream experiment and meet Wake? Currently I'm just about to do the same. I want you to stay alive because _you_ seem to be the main reason for him to fight with the poison of the Dark Place. Alice knows almost nothing for now, but she is soon to learn it all as soon as we have more evidences and papers. Yet she's already on our side, we only need to meet her face to face."

"She's still alive, yes?" Scratch smirked even more and slightly nodded to himself. "Good. Things will become difficult if she dies too soon."

"However", continued Jesse, pretending that she didn't hear him, "the memories of her turned out to be not enough for Wake to become stronger. _You_ are the trigger. And if I know what you can and what you're able to do, I'll manage to know Wake's powers, too. I can _feel_ it there is something huge lying beneath his soul, but none of us can reach it at this point! I want him to _unleash_ it, to show his real self, so we know how he became like that, and so he'll become yet another living proof of the limitless opportunities of the human mind."

Jesse took a small pause.

"You got it now? Nothing really personal. Just science."

"I never doubted that it's merely scientific interest. You're a federal agent after all. And a curious lady, too. Those like you would do _anything_ to know about powers like these, even if it kills those bearing them." Another short chuckle escaped from Scratch's lips, followed by a mocking snort. "Perhaps I _am_ his trigger to fight the Dark Place. But even if I wasn't, it wouldn't change anything between the two of us; I'll try to kill him, he'll try to kill me… it'll always be like that until one of us is finally dead."

"And yet he's still alive ", said Jesse and cocked her head, "Five years are a long time to kill someone, especially when you exactly know where they are. You had more than enough chances to get rid of him. But you didn't. I want to know why."

"He proved himself useful, that's why. If he wasn't, he'd be dead long ago, simple as that. The rest is not to your interest." Scratch slightly shrugged, gritting his teeth in pain, yet another smirk covered his face, making it unclear if his words were true or just a trick. "If you want to know about Wake's powers so bad, you've got to dig deeper. _I_ won't be the one to help you understanding them, what are you even thinking. But let me tell you one thing: there's a good reason why he's unaware of them. It's always been like this and it shouldn't change. That's why I wanted to destroy the manuscript, but you didn't let me… a shame, really. Now that he knows that the pages still exist, he won't give up until he found them. And if he finds out the truth… it may finally break his pathetic resistance entirely. Congratulations Director, you can truly be proud of yourself."

"He won't tell me about the powers", Jesse spoke over his speech, "he may not know about them himself, they are hidden, that's why I'm asking you…"

And she shut her mouth as Scratch began to talk about the manuscript.

"No way… It's not me to blame, I… Shit."

She lowered her head in doubts. And then… she felt something rustling in the bosom of the jacket. Jesse touched the inner pocket.

_Wait… Huh. It can't be..?_

What she pulled out from behind the bosom was the very manuscript pages she managed to keep safe, she managed to bring them with her from the dream!

How could she do it, though?

She didn't know. And honestly, she couldn't care less.

The very lines, which Jesse had no time to read, stayed mostly untouched – this was all that mattered.

Now she finally got the chance to read them. And a cold shiver went down her spine.

Scratch observed Jesse silently, his eyes narrowed at the sight of the pages, and he stretching a hand towards her, and he raised his voice as she shook her head. "Give it to me!"

"No!" Jesse hid the pages behind her back. "I swear I won't tell him about it if these lines are indeed dangerous for his sanity."

"You're messing with my patience!" Scratch snarled suddenly, his voice cold like ice. He stepped closer to her and pulled his knife from his jacket, raising it to Jesse's throat, but he wasn't able to hold it properly in his left hand_._

Jesse startled but remained dead serious.

"Allow me to know, Herald. I'm not your enemy, not for anyone of you. I don't know why you want him to be alive instead of killing him as you're supposed to, or why you try to protect him from what is written in here, but you should _trust_ me."

"_Trust_", he snorted mockingly and grabbed the knife closer as his hand started to tremble. "Trust is only an illusion, nothing more! And Wake's writing is none of your business; you're not supposed to know about it; Hell, you shouldn't even know about him or me at all! You're playing with the fire, Director, take care not to burn yourself!"

"I _always_ play with fire, you won't scare me like that." Jesse quickly glanced at Scratch's knife; after that she lifted her free hand and made the knife from his hand launch into the air and get it stuck into the wall. "Blame Wake for finding me between the worlds, then", she whispered with a slight grin. "I'm in the case."

"You don't even lower your guard when facing death. Impressive, very impressive, indeed." Scratch shortly glanced at the lost knife before looking back at her. "You're either very brave or very stupid. Perhaps you're a bit of both… but it won't change anything."

Within a second he grabbed Jesse at the collar of her jacket with the right hand, grimacing at the pain that shot through his shoulder as he pushed her to the wall, while with the left hand he once more forcefully wrested Jesse's gun out of her fingers.

"You better hand over the pages", he snarled and another dark twinkle flickered in his eyes as he aimed the gun at her chest, only a few inches above her heart. "_Right now_! Don't test my will to leave you unharmed!"

"Oh shit… Hell…" she mumbled in fear, and her eyes began moving unstoppably - her gun, the knife, his face twisted from anger – she felt stepping on the edge of her last chance. No time to linger, _think_!

But the growing fear was tearing her thoughts apart.

What should she do? Go on? Give up? Pretend to be stronger in the risk of losing it all?

Her body betrayed her and shivered even more, yet Jesse kept holding the pages behind her back. But time was running out, what should she do?!

_I am in control… I must be. I am._

And the Oldest House loudly screeched from every side and shuddered, echoing the very troubled emotions flowing within her soul.

"I'll tell you something, **_Director Faden_**", hissed Scratch sharply and looked straight into her eyes. "This place… this very _House_… it doesn't only grant **_control_** to you, but to **_me_** too. If I wasn't **_in control_** you would be already dead. You wouldn't have even escaped your very dream if I hadn't been **_in control_** of myself when I first came here today. That's all you need to know."

He laid a finger on the trigger, but he didn't pull it, even though the dark twinkle kept flickering through his eyes, becoming clearer and more visible with every second passing.

"Give this goddamn manuscript to me, before I **_lose_** control. This is my last warning; deny me once more and I'll shoot you with your own weapon. Believe me, it's not worth dying for it."

Jesse stopped shivering… and smiled, broadly and openly.

_Well, you **-are-** stupid_, she thought of herself, _you should be ashamed of yourself to have forgotten one more of your own tricks._

"And it's not worth of fighting", she said with a smirk. "Go on, if you wish, and if you think you don't need me in your case with Wake, but I doubt it very much… I **_always_** stand my ground. You also do, as I see. Come on."

Scratch gnashed his teeth, visibly infuriated at her smile and words. He hesitated for a moment, then he raised the gun from Jesse's chest to her shoulder—

"See it as a payback."

—and pulled the trigger. And only after, without even looking at back, he forcefully tore the manuscript pages from her hand, threw the gun across the room and turned around to leave.

But the shot he made was blank. The gun did nothing else than a small firework that burned Jesse's jacket just a little bit.

"It doesn't hurt, Herald!" she yelled at him to make him stop.

Scratch froze still on the threshold and glanced back over his shoulder. He didn't say anything, only the expression on his face tensed from suppressed rage, yet the dark twinkle within his eyes was gone again.

"It wouldn't listen to you without my wish. This is the unique gun that obeys only to the Director of the Bureau. It can't hurt its own master."

Jesse raised her hand and the papers in Scratch's fingers started shivering, trying to fly away.

"I see. Well, shame on me that I didn't think about such a thing. But don't worry, I'll remember to use Wake's gun next time." He grabbed the pages even closer, and once more the ink like shadows leaked from his fingers, preventing them to escape. "What now, Director? I won't give you the pages back and I won't answer to you either. What's your plan about that?"

She moved another hand without raising it, and the floor beneath Scratch's feet moved a bit to make him stand closer to her.

"Why won't you just make a deal with me?", she asked, still trying to pull the pages out of his hands. "Or do you still need something more to prove the honesty of my intentions?"

"I don't care about the **_honesty of your intentions_**!" snarled Scratch, pronouncing the last words as if they were a very deep insult. But then he looked at the manuscript, observing the shivering paper in his hands, and he frowned, honestly thinking for a moment. "You really want to know it, hm? Alright, I suggest you a _deal_." He raised the pages and waved it in front of Jesse's eyes. "I'll let you read this typewritten nonsense, then I'll destroy it. If you mention a single word of it to anybody I'll kill you faster than you could ever imagine. And believe me, I will find out if you do!"

_Sounds fair_, she thought. Keeping a secret wasn't difficult for her, she did often before.

"What do you want in return?"

"Oh, that's easy, Director." Scratch made a pause, smirking. "You'll let me out of here. _After_ you introduced me to the Hiss. You're not the only one who's eager to learn about new powers, y'know?"

_Is he so self-confident about his own powers? To meet the Hiss one on one? Well, he's the Herald of Darkness, after all. He better knows what he's planning to do with it. Not a big problem._

She smiled and nodded.

"I agree. Deal!"


	16. The Lost Manuscript III

**~Chapter 15~**

"Really? I didn't expect that, Director, you continue to impress me." Scratch slightly chuckled. "You have no idea what I'm going to do with the Hiss's powers, right?"

"Do whatever you want to the Hiss", said Jesse, "but do _not_ let it out from the Oldest House."

"Whatever…" Scratch said almost silently and kept smirking. And finally he handed the pages to Jesse, but even when he let go of the paper, the shadow covering it didn't fade away. "Don't try to trick me and keep them, it will not work."

"I won't", she said and took the long-awaited pages with worry and trepidation. Here it was, the answer to it all… and still she lingered for a second, taking a deep breath before she lowered her eyes to the manuscript. Almost all of the words read clear; only the names already got corrupted by Scratch's former effort to burn the pages; and yet they were not gone completely – despite only barely, they were still recognizable.

"_W͙̲͡a͕̦̠k҉e̛ felt him coming. He actually expected both of the federals to follow the bait he left, but C̠̤̟aͨ͆̽s̋͂͌e̱̘̻ỳ̈̍ was bold enough to come alone. Or rather stupid enough. But who was he to judge about it? It actually played him into the hands, it was even better this way._

_C̠̤̟aͨ͆̽s̋͂͌e̱̘̻ỳ̈̍ shivered as he walked through the corridors of the strange building that had been mentioned in the paper he found on his desk this morning. His partner - a young, blonde woman by the name of S͆͐̾a̱͎͢gͧ͊͑a͌̄͊ ̙͂̆Å̌̐nͯ̈ͯd̎̌̀e̮͊r̈́̾ͭs̲̩̃oͦͣ͐n̋̒̿ - had warned him to go all alone, to even investigate it at all, telling him it was an obvious trap._

_"It's our only chance". he had said to her. "If you don't want to come with me I'll go on my own. It's nothing but normal job risk and I have taken a lot of them before, it'll be fine, don't worry."_

_But now, that he was actually here in the middle of the woods – a place where nobody would be able to help or even hear him – he wasn't that sure about his own words anymore. He hadn't been either in the very moment he left the Bureau, but somehow he felt that he needed to get there; that he was supposed to be **alone** here, just as if he was a character of a bad written novel that build all of its suspense and drama on the most obvious clichés._

_C̠̤̟aͨ͆̽s̋͂͌e̱̘̻ỳ̈̍ flinched hard at a sound nearby, but when he turned around there was nobody to be seen, Still, he could swear that he had heard footsteps right behind him._

_C̠̤̟aͨ͆̽s̋͂͌e̱̘̻ỳ̈̍ slightly shook the head and grabbed his gun and flashlight closer._

_He was imagining things._

_Waiting for the federal's arrival, W͙̲͡a͕̦̠k҉e̛ had hidden himself in the shadows. He absently traced his fingers over the knife he held firmly in his hand and a smirk appeared on his face, while he watched C̠̤̟aͨ͆̽s̋͂͌e̱̘̻ỳ̈̍ walking through the corridors, searching for him._

_Being controlled by the Ď͗ͬȃ̹̪r̒ͬ̆k͆̉̒ ̣͈P̨r̡̹̐eͤ̅̚҉̩͓̳s̨̘̎eͩͤͥnͯͭ̎c̢ͪ͒ẹͥ wasn't that bad after all; it made everything so much easier, no thinking, no feeling of guilt, not the slightest glimpse of memory about anything that happened while he was >taken<…_

_Back at the cabin it was just him and J̆a̶͕͕g̿́ͫg͔̬̫eͫ̈́͑r̅ͪ͐. They both were able to change the world entirely, twisting and turning it just the way he wanted it to, like >she< wanted it to. She didn't make a lot of changes any more, now that W͙̲͡a͕̦̠k҉e̛ had understood that she was only trying to help him; she promised the greatest power to him after all, in exchange for his compliance._

_And S̨͇̍c̊̊̉r͂̾̉â̅͝t̷ͦ̆cͩ̒͌h̰… he would all blame it on him, one murder more or less wouldn't make a difference. In the last couple of weeks the H͕̞͋eͥ̋ͫr͙aͦ͂ͬl͂ͩ̊d̳̊͋ was becoming deviant anyway. He had been foolish enough to think that nobody would notice his secret visits to the O͚̩͕l̘d̞͙̘ė̋̀s͑̒͊t̓̀̚ ͗ͯ͑H̺͋ǫ̹uͬ̏͒s͍̞̞ė͕̜, but of course They knew._

_They always did._

_And with each visit he made, it took more effort to repair the damage that his so called >free will< had done to him. Soon he wouldn't be suitable for their needs anymore._

_But there was still hope, a light at the end of the tunnel._

_The H̰̉iͦ͑̚s̨̋͊s̷ͥ̏ - the supernatural being residing at the O͚̩͕l̘d̞͙̘ė̋̀s͑̒͊t̓̀̚ ͗ͯ͑H̺͋ǫ̹uͬ̏͒s͍̞̞ė͕̜ - held immense power, just like They needed it. The H͕̞͋eͥ̋ͫr͙aͦ͂ͬl͂ͩ̊d̳̊͋ only needed to learn about the beast's powers, free it and bring it to the D͉ͯͩả͂̐r͏͔͎k̀̐̋ ͍̔Pͥͪ͑l̏̋̊a̟͒͠ce. After this final task he wouldn't be of use any longer, and a problem less for Them to worry about._

_But all that was far away. There was still a thing to do for W͙̲͡a͕̦̠k҉e̛, a kind of prologue to all the following events. If he kills C̠̤̟aͨ͆̽s̋͂͌e̱̘̻ỳ̈̍, Å̌̐nͯ̈ͯd̎̌̀e̮͊r̈́̾ͭs̲̩̃oͦͣ͐n̋̒̿ would search for him. She surely won't come alone, yet that wouldn't be a problem; W͙̲͡a͕̦̠k҉e̛ didn't intend to kill her after all – she should get away as a witness, wounded and traumatized, yet still sane enough to tell her story._

_And as soon as the F̸͔̦eͭd̽̈̓e̙ͤ͋ṛ͓͖ä̺͟l̰͎ͧ ͑ͪͣBͣͬ͂u̙͉͉r̎̉ͬe͒ͪ̚a͒ͣ̚u ̊̒ͤo̰͌̈f̢̗̤ ͭ͂̑C͙̐o͂ͥ͋n͌̃҉̙t̡̐ͨr̽͋͑oͩͧ̒l̬̥̲ ͧ̈́̐̈ would find out about it, they will start investigating: W͙̲͡a͕̦̠k҉e̛ himself was reported missing after all, considered to be dead with the most unusual circumstances surrounding his sudden disappearance, so they surely have an interest. Especially the Bͣͬ͂u̙͉͉r̎̉ͬe͒ͪ̚a͒ͣ̚u's Director wouldn't let such a chance slip away from her reach. And after that, the events would fall into place one after another, linked by a manuscript, just like before._

_Still smirking, W͙̲͡a͕̦̠k҉e̛ stepped out of the shadows to reveal himself to the lone federal._

_Hearing a movement behind himself, C̠̤̟aͨ͆̽s̋͂͌e̱̘̻ỳ̈̍ spun around._

_There was a man standing behind him. C̠̤̟aͨ͆̽s̋͂͌e̱̘̻ỳ̈̍ recognized him immediately – it was the writer he had been searching for so long._

_And then C̠̤̟aͨ͆̽s̋͂͌e̱̘̻ỳ̈̍ saw it: W͙̲͡a͕̦̠k҉e̛ had a bloody knife in his hand; the light of the flashlight illuminated his features and the silver blade in an eerie way._

_"Federal Agent C̠̤̟aͨ͆̽s̋͂͌e̱̘̻ỳ̈̍, freeze!", he yelled _ _and raised the gun to aim it at W͙̲͡a͕̦̠k҉e̛, and when the W̡̝͓͔̹̥̥ͫ̽̿ͫͣr̖̂̄̍̽̓̎͟ͅḭ̜̜͈͋͆t͓̖̭̦͇͉e̱̙̬̻̜̮ͧ̇ͨ͛̊̂̀͠r̴͖̳͖̦̲̯ͣͮ͗̋́̚ didn't follow his order, C̠̤̟aͨ͆̽s̋͂͌e̱̘̻ỳ̈̍ pulled the trigger._

_Once._

_Twice._

_A third time._

_A fourth… but it was no use; the bullets didn't even hit W͙̲͡a͕̦̠k҉e̛; instead they were repelled by an aura of invisible energy around him. Most of them disappeared into the darkness, only one was reflected to the nearby wall, scattering sharp shards of concrete all around._

_Standing with his back to the wall without any shots left in his gun, C̠̤̟aͨ͆̽s̋͂͌e̱̘̻ỳ̈̍ wanted to scream in horror, but he couldn't make any sound. In the same moment he realized that coming here all alone was the most stupid decision he had ever made._

_And his last one, too._

_Within a second W͙̲͡a͕̦̠k҉e̛ covered the remaining distance and brought down the knife twice – first towards Cͨȃͤ͛s̫͒ͩe̱̩yͣ͛̊'̆̐̉sͯ͋̅ chest, then to his neck._

_He smiled when looking at C̠̤̟aͨ͆̽s̋͂͌e̱̘̻ỳ̈̍, watching his desperate struggle and his weak attempt to stop the constant flow of blood from the lethal wounds. _

_When a last shudder ran through the agent's body, W͙̲͡a͕̦̠k҉e̛ raised a hand and traced it across his own cheek. There was blood on his face and fingers, leaking from the spot where one of the concrete shards had cut his skin. Within less than a second__,_ _a shadow laid on the wound, stopping the bleeding without leaving the smallest trace of its existence behind__._

_W͙̲͡a͕̦̠k҉e̛҉ once more glanced at the lifeless body that lied on the floor before him – covered in blood and with unfocused eyes staring at something that no mortal was able to see._

_A smug grin formed on his lips._

_This was only the beginning._"

Jesse lowered her hands. She was long prepared to find out something Wake would surely not be happy to learn. But she didn't expect herself to be touched by these lines so hard that it made her strong heart beat in sadness and horror.

"It wasn't you who killed Casey", she whispered with hoarsely; it was hard to speak, even to breath with the lump that formed in her throat.

"Of course not", said Scratch, his voice as indifferent as it could possibly be. "I wish I did, but I won't claim glory for something I didn't do. Yet Wake believes that it was me and it's best to leave him this illusion. It makes things easier; for both of us."

Now there is no wonder why Wake didn't remember typing those lines. He wasn't _meant_ to remember.

_Wake… how could you… how could you give in?_ So many years spent in the Dark Place must have taken its toll, at last. And yet, Jesse refused to believe that Wake was completely _gone_. She had been talking to him for many weeks, she earned his trust and sympathy, and he, on the other hand, left a trace of compassion. That couldn't be just an illusion, she was seeing the _real_ Wake, she felt his silent light from beyond, however…

Suddenly she realized what exactly that secret power was, hidden deeply within Wake's soul. Something the Dark Presence and its minions would never want her to reveal – that very '_previous self_', his inner light, flickering beneath the poisoning smoke of the Dark Place.

He truly needs her. Deep within, he must have understood this, that's why he found the way to contact her through the typewriters! He, too, knew she was special, and one day their roads must have crossed in any way.

And she promised to help him.

And she will.

"I repeat myself only once: A single word about this to _anybody_, and you're dead."

Scratch snapped his fingers and the shadows on the manuscript stirred, burning the typewritten words away one after another, while the paper itself remained untouched, just like in her dream. "I redeemed my part of the deal, now it's your turn."

Jesse got rid of her thoughts as the pages burned on. She didn't hurry to throw them, though. She was holding them like a weak thread to that someone she promised to save.

"What do you want from me now?", she asked and looked at Scratch. "We are still up to locate that thing. As soon as we did, I may tell you."

"Oh, you don't even _know_ where it is? I'm almost disappointed." A slight smirk appeared on Scratch's lips as he leaned against the nearby wall. "Go find it, then. And no >I _may_ tell you<, Director. You _will_ tell me, that's a matter of fact. I don't like it at all when my deals are broken!"

_Alright_, she thought,_ a deal is a deal, and she never breaks her promises._

"Patience, Herald", she said out loud. "I have my guys positioned around the whole building, someone should notify me of its presence for sure."

So… He was willing to obey the Hiss and possess its powers to become stronger? Or did he just pretend to play ball with the Dark Presence as he was slowly, like the manuscript mentioned, _'becoming deviant_'? How come he wasn't scared or even surprised about reading such a thing about himself? Who were '_They_' anyway?

And then a voice loudly broke in her train of thoughts, coming from the radio transmitter she carried in her ear.

"Ms. Faden?" It was a female agent, her words broken by static noise and partly hard to understand. "I think… we found it… Floor 6… Over."

"Got it. I'm on my way. Out", Jesse replied, having pressed the button from the transmitter. "See?" She looked at Scratch. "It's all the matter of patience."

"Obviously."

Scratch snapped his fingers again and when shadows wrapped around his still injured shoulder, he carefully moved the fingers of his right hand - just as if to check if he could still use it. And only after he walked over to the very wall where his knife still stuck in to pull the blade out of the concrete. "Let's go, then", he said and put it back into his jacket. "No time to waste, I still have other business to attend to. You'll lead the way."

"Sure", she picked up her gun that was still lying on the floor and stepped out into the hallway.

This was Floor 18.

They quickly ran through the dead corridor to the elevators, and Jesse pushed the call button, just in case, because she already guessed it would be better to come downstairs on their own.

"Floor 6, you hear me?" she asked, having pressed the transmitter again. Silence was the answer. And right after, a huge howl was born from behind the walls, and they started moving, changing pictures and ornaments.

"Floor 6! Floor 6, reply! Goddammit!"

"Your Agents aren't very talkative, eh?" Scratch chuckled and leaned his back to the wall, looking around in interest at the howl and their changing surroundings.

"Watch out!" Jesse screamed as the wall Scratch leaned on moved, too.

"Huh…" Scratch turned around, tilting his head as he watched the moving wall with almost childlike curiosity. "Weird, isn't it? Weird, but interesting. So very interesting…"

If he was actually afraid, he was successfully hiding it. And for some reason this total absence of fear scared Jesse, even though she should already be used to his unnerving behavior.

She was ready to run to the stairs as her nerves reached the limit, when she noticed the gun of the nearest corpse sliding to the left. And then the other objects in the room started rolling down after the gun like from the top of a hill.

"What the hell…?" flew from her mouth. But then she finally understood what was happening: The entire floor was rotating.

Scratch kept looking around in interest, but when he noticed the objects rolling out of reach, he snapped his fingers once more. A dark glow wrapped around his feet and sank into the concrete, holding him in both balance and position. He looked at Jesse and tilted his head again—

"I could just… but no, that won't be fair… it'd be stupid too, I still need you, Director…"

—and in the very second she lost her balance, he grabbed Jesse's wrist tightly to prevent her from sliding away. Jesse shortly cried out from pain and surprise, but instead of releasing her Scratch grabbed her wrist even closer; a cold feeling radiated from his fingers, spreading through her body, from the top of her head until the tips of her toes… and just then, the same glow that held him in position, wrapped around her feet as well.

"This is not going to end…" she said silently as she stood still near him while the corridor was spinning around their axis.

The walls… they kept whispering, moving, howling. The light bulbs flickered with different colors they never had before. The Oldest House took action by itself. Suddenly a couple of large crack formed on the former floor, running from one end of the hallway to the other, forming cubes with straight lines; One of them got soaked down into nowhere, and there remained nothing else than a big lightless hole.

"What now, Director? Do you have a plan or do you just want to wait until all of this weird House collapses and buries us?"

"It won't… It shouldn't."

It wasn't her causing the movement. She would calm the House down like always… but there were so few powers left within her. She used them too often today, too many of them.

And Scratch's grip on her hand… the dark flows on her skin… too cold…

Within a second her rainbow aura revealed itself. Scratch hissed, pulling his hand away as if he had burned himself.

"That's how you thank me for saving you from falling to death?" he snarled, and the shadows on Jesse's feet flickered for a second, yet they didn't fade away. "That's really rude, y'know?"

"I didn't mean to, I…"

Jesse didn't manage to explain further. Her head went dizzy. As she closed her eyes for a second, she was thinking: they should be together, she should keep an eye on him, and she shouldn't let him go as much as he won't let her go. And yet just one wish circled in her brain – to hide, just somewhere, to stay alone for a while and regain her true powers. To regain **_control_**.

"Let it go (go)…" she suddenly heard a faint voice whispering inside of her head. And when she opened her eyes again, she saw a pale blue light shining underneath the impenetrable blackness.

_What…?_

And then an unpredictable flash blasted between Jesse and Scratch, tearing apart the Herald's sticky shadows flowing around her feet.

"Oh _shit_!" yelled Scratch and shielded his eyes from the blinding light that burned him even more than Jesse's rainbow aura did before. And when the horrible light all around him faded away, he glanced down into the nothingness that still spread beneath him; in the distance he could make out the Director's figure floating through the space below, before she disappeared - only barely, but he knew it was her.

Yet no matter where she hid, he would find her. He _must_ find her, even if it was the last thing he did. And he had to find the Hiss as well, he had to examine its powers, using them for his own purposes, just like he had been told.

But first things first. No need to rush anything, he had all the time in the world. If he found the Director, she would lead him to the Hiss, that was part of the deal they made. And if she dared to break it, she would suffer a fate worse than death – simple as that.

A smirk appeared on Scratch's face, as he remembered that – in worst case – he could still shatter her pathetic protection-barrier to free the Hiss from the Oldest House. _They_ wouldn't be pleased with that, but still it would be better than to return to the Dark Place without _any_ result.

With that thought he let himself drop a little more into the blackness below.

He would find her again… sooner or later…

Failing to grasp for anything, Jesse fell down, deeper and deeper, being picked away by a strong wind flow that came out of nowhere. It was dragging her into somewhere, like on purpose. Jesse managed to catch a big concrete shard and use it as both a shield and a surfboard.

She called for her powers… And they replied. Still weak and dried, they agreed to obey one more time to save their master.

Jesse confidently stood on the shard and flew along with the wind flow, coming across the former rooms and empty hallways, shattered, lifeless, without ceilings and walls. That's what remained from several floors at once, merged in half-darkness to become one huge un-gravitational space.

And there was the elevator shaft shining nearby. Jesse jumped over and flew towards it, enjoying the semblance of freedom that is not going to last long.

As she reached the ground, she walked through the yet undamaged corridor, barely making steps.

She looked on the large yellow letters written across the wall.

Floor 13. Nice.

Shivering and staggering, ready to fall from exhaustion in every second, she pushed the first door open that she found,

Just a small empty office. Good, that was more than enough.

No matter how long she'd be safe in here, she'll sense the danger if something goes wrong. The Oldest House would warn her. It surely would. This was _her_ House after all. Soon she'll be fine again. She'll be back…

Jesse sat on the ground and curled up in a corner. And as the shivering was gone, she let herself fade away into colorless visions between dreams and reality.


	17. The Lost Manuscript IV

**~Chapter 16~**

"Jesse, I’ve finally reached you."

Jesse startled from the unknown voice sounding like from the underwater, pretty close to her, though. A white transparent light pierced in her eyes as she lifted her head.

"Who are you?" she whispered.

"I am the one who always wished this nightmare to never happen to you."

She recognized him. It was the diver from Wake's stories. The very one who was helping him to keep fighting for his life before the Dark Presence cut their common bond. His name was Thomas Zane.

Jesse shook her head – she must be dreaming again, and now it was _him_ who entered her dream. But no, she mustn't sleep, not now, she must act, no time to rest…!

"Let me go, I must wake", she said weakly.

"Don't worry, Jesse. You will wake, fresh and strong. But before you go, let me talk to you. You seem to be the only one who can save him now."

"Is that so? Is that not you being his guardian or anything? You both are there, right? At the Dark Place?"

"My mind is lying much deeper within the Dark Place, he's out of my reach", said Zane. "You are closer to him than me for now. Alan won't last long, you must hurry. Find the way to contact him! You can do it through any typewriter in your place as you both are strongly connected now. He will sense you."

His light slightly faded away, becoming more transparent to reveal the features of the office outside her dream.

"How can you be so confident in me?" Jesse asked. "We've never met before."

"I've seen everything you've been doing. You can make it, Jesse. You can change it."

He started disappearing in the air as Jesse realized that the dream released her from its embrace and, she – finally – was about to wake up.

"Don’t blame Alan for what happened because of him. You should see it with your own eyes it wasn’t real him."

And with these final words, Zane was gone.

Jesse opened her eyes and quickly stood up from the floor. She slightly moved her hands, listening to her inner powers… and she smiled when they replied with a glow that was as strong and bright as it had always been.

Once again, she was ready to fight.

It was quiet at the Oldest House – too quiet. There was no movement, not even the sound of crackling concrete from the upper floors was heard. But still the eerie lack of any noise charged the atmosphere, hanging in the air, just like the literal silence that preceded storm.

Jesse sneaked from the office and looked around.

Where should she go? Should she try to reunite to Scratch? He'd be mad at her for this sudden leaving. And he probably wouldn't allow her to contact to the writer.

How should she do it, anyway? There were not many typewriters left in the Oldest House.

The experiment room. The very place where Wake had contacted her for the first time. It was located in the Core-Sector, quite far away from the remains of Floor 13 where she was now. There must be another way.

Just then, she heard something, a faint noise echoing from afar. It was nearly inaudible and would've simply vanished within any other sound, but as the Oldest House was drowned in deadly silence, that noise was heard anyway… somehow it sounded like a pen that was scraping across paper.

"Oh shit", whispered Jesse and hid herself behind the opposite door, a small dark room with nothing inside apart from a photo frame on the wall and a cord hanging from the ceiling. She couldn't say what place was captured on the photo but its design and lighting assured her that it most likely was yet another corner of the Oldest House.

She decided to wait, despite knowing she'd better hurry to catch the Hiss on Floor 6… Well, if only the Hiss was still there. But she already doubted that. It never stayed at one place for long, otherwise the Bureau would've already caught it time ago. And by now it could be anywhere.

She leaned to the door to catch any sound from outside.

The scraping didn't stop. Yet it didn't come any closer either, but remained in the distance, like a sort of background noise one would expect in a library or a classroom.

And after a while something else broke the silence – a noise that sounded like clacking keys of a typewriter. Yet neither of these sounds lasted long, when a horrific howl tore the silence apart, echoing from very close by.

Jesse startled and peeked out into the corridor.

"Whoa!" she screamed when lots of concrete garbage flew over her head, only missing her by an inch before it crashed into the hallway's dead end.

And then she saw her enemy. One of the Hiss' zombies. The Drifter. The Hiss had located her before she even reached it.

The Drifter, this horrific parody of human, landed on the edge of the collapsed corridor, shifting the air to lift dust and concrete clumps around itself.

And then it smelled her. Jesse closed the door behind her and jumped away when it was torn apart by the Drifter's attack. This thing stopped in the middle of the office, sniffing in the air to search for Jesse. She bared her gun at shot at it. Not enough. It launched to her to grab her with its claws but Jesse managed to dodge.

The monster attacked her again. She fled away and leaned to the wall with the photo. She called for her inner powers and when the room filled with her rainbow aura she shot it again, twice this time.

Still not enough. These beasts are not easily to be killed… this room was too small for them to fight!

With no further thinking she ran over to the hanging cord and pulled it, and in the next second, her heart skipped a few beats. She felt like falling and almost screamed… but before she could make any sound, she stood on her feet again.

Struck by a glimpse of surprise, Jesse looked around.

This place was nothing like the small, dark room she was in before; it was big, with walls so high the ceiling was almost out of reach to even spot. And yet the architecture that surrounded Jesse was just like the one at the Oldest House… it was the place from the photo!

The framed image that led her here hung behind her on the wall, showing a still frozen image of that very small room… including the Drifter that had attacked her.

Jesse turned around again. Far away, almost impossible to see, there was a bridge that led even further ahead.

She walked towards the bridge, carefully stepping in the dark as she saw nothing, not even earth beneath her feet. And then, something stirred within the flowing darkness around her. She looked up and her eyes widened in surprise – there was a small house on the other side, still quite far away yet she could swear that it hadn't been there before. The sound of crashing waves filled the air, as if she was near the ocean or a lake; she heard nothing else for a while… until once more the sounds of the scarping pen and the clacking typewriter keys tore the silence apart. She crossed the bridge, going towards the weird clacking noises, and stopped near a wooden sign on her way.

"Bird Lake Cabin", it read.

Jesse gasped in awareness. No way! This was the place Wake described to her during their typewriter sessions, the very one he was trapped in.

And here she was. This place looked like calling her to join. Jesse had no other option but to accept this invitation.

_It goes too well_, she thought in doubt. Like she was lead here by an invisible hand belonging to the author of her life story.

Jesse snorted. What a nonsense. But she believed her eyes and ears telling her that this place was exactly where she should have been at from the very start. And she must take this chance!

"Wake?", she screamed as she opened the cabin's front door and stepped into the living room. "Wake, are you there? It's Jesse Faden!"

But there was no answer apart from the sound of the typewriter, calling her from the upper floor. This cabin… despite of seeming nice and cozy, its energy was toxic and cloudy. Two sides of one house. Just like her own Oldest House.

Jesse fled upstairs. The sounds were much closer now, yet they became more and more silent with every of her steps. There were two doors, the fading typing noise was coming from the left. She took a deep breath and without any regrets pushed the door open.

It was a small room, a study with nothing else in it than a bookshelf… and a desk, on which there sat a black haired man in a tweed jacket, with his back towards her. He was the one pushing the typewriter keys, and he still did, yet there was no more sound coming from the machine. After a moment he stopped typing and rubbed his temples as if he had a bad headache, then he shook his head and started to push the keys again, without turning around to Jesse or even acknowledging her presence.

_Damn… What am I even doing_, Jesse thought. Was it even real what she was doing?

Of course it was. It was as much real as anything else she had seen or done in her entire life. She now reached her final destination of the recent weeks.

_No more thinking. Not here. Don't doubt, just finish it._

Jesse stepped into the study and stood still.

"Wake?" she asked into the silence. "It's me. I've come for you."

Wake jolted at her voice and – having stopped typing immediately – he turned around. His appearance was nothing like Jesse had seen it before; his face looked exhausted, his eyes tired… and yet there was a glimpse of recognition in his glance.

"Ms. Faden…"

Wake's voice sounded hoarse and weak as if he hadn't spoken for a long time, but still a slight smile formed on his lips. Here and now, he was just a poor man who resigned himself to his fate.

"Wake…" Jesse smiled back, so relieved to finally see him in the flesh, for real, outside her dreams. She made a few more steps and when she stood on one knee before him, Jesse laid her hand on his arm.

He was real.

And so was the warm energy inside him, too. But his body was cold, so cold like ice.

Wake rested his forehead into his palm. He closed his eyes for a moment but forced himself to open them again almost immediately.

He was tired, so very tired. Yet at the same time he knew he wasn't allowed to sleep, he knew the Dark Presence would come back for him if he dared to rest.

"How… how did you come here, Ms. Faden? And why? It's dangerous…"

">_Why<_? You can't be serious", Jesse sadly grinned and made a pause. "The Oldest House is a place with lots of connections between every supernatural world beyond our own. Even we ourselves are not aware of their exact amount and where they are placed", she sighed, "I guess I found one of them. Just by accident. And it led me to you."

">_By accident_<… Of course." Wake's smile changed to a grin too, but soon it faded again.

"Still, you can't stay here. It's dangerous. And I must warn you… Some of the beings here might have already entered your place. I call them the >Taken<. They're not like your ordinary enemies, you can't kill them simply with a gun. You must fight them with light, burn their darkness away before shooting them."

"I remember, Wake", she said with a slight smile. "You've been telling me this for several times. I'll find the way to deal with them."

"They don't know mercy… fight them with light…" Wake repeated, then he looked at the typewriter in front of him. The page sitting inside was blank, despite he had typed on it before. "I can't write a single word with that thing", he said. "It's cursed… but I must have written anything, you showed me the pages. The manuscript… did you bring it with you? Give it to me. I'll fix it, change things…"

"What? Wait, u-uh…" Jesse lowered her eyebrows, glancing away. He can't mean the very papers that Scratch recently burned in her hands… right? "What manuscript?", she said, not meeting eyes with him, "I don't have anything."

"The one from your dream… the pages that hinted I killed somebody…" Wake closed his eyes and rubbed his temples again, "I need it, Ms. Faden, _give it to me_!"

"Wake? What's wrong with you?" she leaned to him, seeing him barely conscious, trying to look right at his face. And as she touched his shoulder, a small flickering shadow flow came from inside his clothes.

"I **_need_** the manuscript! Give it to me!" Wake insisted and the tone in his voice slowly changed from impatience to anger. He clenched his hands to fists, seemingly not realizing the shadow that came from his shoulder… or anything else, as his mind was focused at this one thought that circled within his brain. "It's the only written thing since ages, I must change what's written in it, it's my chance to finally break through!"

Jesse cringed her teeth. She would do anything for him; she would promise every single thing that can let him get out of here… but not this. If only bluffing can save this situation.

"I can't give you what I don't have right now", she said in forced calmness. "But if you follow me, I can lead you to the Oldest House and then… _then_ you'll be free of anything." She stood up and laid a hand on his shoulder. "Come on, Wake, it's not far. Will you come with me?"

"Why didn't you bring it, Ms. Faden? Y-you're working for >_her_<, right? And for >_him_<, too!" Wake tensed at her touch, turned his head away from her. "You can't bring me out of here, only I can do it myself… if I was just able to write anything!"

Suddenly he grabbed the typewriter and threw it off the table; the machine didn't break apart as it hit the ground, yet black smoky clouds rose from it, looking like ink that had been dropped into water; and the shadow flickered from Wake's shoulder again as well, much more visible than it had been before.

"Wake! I've been through some issues before I got here", Jesse's anger ringed in her loud voice, too, and she grabbed his shoulder tightly when her hand started glowing with her rainbow aura, mixing with the shadow flows. "Think for yourself – if I had known I will be here, I would do this, but I didn't! The Oldest House led me here with no explanations, and you are not the only one suffering from the consequences of this goddamn—"

She interrupted herself as she heard a weird noise. It was that very scraping noise she heard before, and it was close, right behind them. Jesse slightly turned her head… and then she saw it: there was a piece of paper laying on the bookshelf, right beneath the photograph of a person in a bulky diver suit. An old pen was moving quickly across the paper's surface, but there were no letters to be seen.

The Diver. Of course! He had reached them, too. Thank God. But doesn't that mean it was _him_ who let her enter the Dark Place?

_You are closer to him than me_, she recalled his words, _Alan won't last long without you_.

A slight smile appeared on her lips as she noticed how Wake closed his eyes, and when she saw the shadows surrounding them both dissolved within the glow of her light.

"You're right…", Wake whispered, his tensed body relaxing. "It's just… this place… nothing seems to be real here… it's been so long… I can't trust anybody than myself… and even my own mind betrays me, just like you said… tells me lies that you're with >_her_<…"

"There, there…" Jesse instantly embraced him to let her aura shining brighter between them, and more and more shadows got lifted from Wake's figure, dissolving into nothingness.

If only it helps him, if only she's doing it right…

Wake rested his head to her shoulder as felt something leaving his mind and body – something that had possessed him a long time ago, had made use of him, fed on his powers ever since. Something that had **_changed_** him and his very way of thinking.

Still, there was a small spot within his soul that Jesse's light **_didn't_** reach, a tiny spot where the darkness lurking inside of him could hide and grow in silence, eager to break free again.

But Wake wasn't aware of that.

"I… I owe you forever, Ms. Faden…" he whispered, focusing only on the warmth of both Jesse's embrace and her light.

"Shh, that's fine, that's fine…" said Jesse and her glow slowly faded and disappeared beneath her skin.

_We did it, Zane, just like we wished_, Jesse thought. And she smiled, having winked to his invisible presence.

Meanwhile, the pen on the bookshelf never stopped moving.

Finally, she released Wake from her embrace and nodded to the shelves.

"Wake? Have you seen this before?"

The writer turned his head, looking at the pen with tired eyes. After a moment that seemed to last an eternity, he finally shook his head, and even this slight movement costed him more strength than running a marathon.

"No, I—" He silenced and frowned, thinking. "I… I didn't _see_ it. But I heard that noise before. I thought I was just imagining it."

And as he said it, the pen froze still, like on his command. But it only lasted for a second, even less – then it moved across the paper more quickly than before, faster than any human would be able to write.

"What the hell are you writing in there?!" Confused and impatient, Jesse stood up and crossed the room to the bookshelf. The paper stayed blank at first, but after a moment red glowing words formed on it, written in a narrow handwriting that Jesse had never seen before. These words didn't make sense, they seemed to be rather jumbled thoughts than anything else, yet they were written down mercilessly, as a record of something that happened outside of the Dark Place:

"_It's a suicide mission… has always been… if the Hiss doesn't kill me, They will… should've resisted… ran away… not suitable… damage… but the House grants **control**… will stay here… something's wrong… the Director… she's with Wake… help him… set him free…_"

Jesse gasped.

_No way! Is that—? It's not Zane, but then it must be—_

She caught the pen to make it stop, and it trembled in her hands for a second, before it began to glow in the same red like the letters on the paper, becoming hot like fire and burning the skin on Jesse's fingers while it continued to write the glowing words:

"_This creature… it's no Taken, what is it?… doesn't matter, it's dead now… I killed so many people… I'm a sinner, won't be forgiven… why doesn't it end?… the manuscript… don't tell him… leave him the illusion, it's better this way, the best for all… that howl… the Hiss, it's here!… can't escape…_"

"W-what's wrong, Ms. Faden?" asked Wake, still looking at her tiredly, but before Jesse could answer to him, her hand hardly shook, possessed with the pen's dark magic; then the pen pricked her wrist.

"Argh, no, no!" Jesse screamed as her vision went black, she felt like dissolving, like crumbling into a million little particles. She felt like falling.

Jesse's scream banished every glimpse of Wake's tiredness and exhaustion away. He scrambled to his feet and dashed towards Jesse, trying to grasp for her hand, to catch her for the sleeve of her jacket, to hold her back, but it was too late – her figure dissolved right between his fingers—

"Wake, break through to the House, you can do it, there **_is_** the way!" Jesse yelled into the dusty air, knowing that this will be her last words for him before she fell down into nothingness.

—and then she was gone.

"Goddammit!"

Wake smashed his fist into the bookshelf and both Zane's photo and the weird paper fell to the floor. Hissing from the pain that shot up into his arm, Wake picked up the photograph and put it back on the shelf, then raised the paper in front of his eyes… nothing. Not a single word was on it, even though he had heard the pen moving. And Jesse seemed to have seen something too.

_Wake, break through to the House, you can do it, there is the way_ – Her yelled words kept ringing in his ears. Still holding the possessed paper, he turned around… then his view focused on the typewriter.

It laid on the ground, how did it get there? Hopefully it wasn't broken…

But no, as Wake placed it back on the desk and pressed the keys, they moved smoothly… and left pitch-black letters on the white paper.

Wake smiled warmly.

This was the very chance he had waited for so long! And for the first time in ages he sensed something else apart from the poisonous energy of the Dark Place: a dark aura that felt way too familiar, a distinctive feeling of danger that lurked outside of the cabin he was trapped in – it was within the Oldest House.

_I must help her_, Wake thought and – having tucked the possessed paper into his jacket – once more sat down in front of the typewriter.

No way that he would just leave her alone, not after all they've been through, not after what she just did for him. She saved him from his own madness after all, he owed it to her.

Wake tore the stained page from the machine, put a new into it, and started writing.

This time, for real.

_Don't worry, Ms. Faden, I'll reach you._

She just needed to get near a typewriter.

The one inside the Core might be the best; Wake remembered that she once told him that this was the safest part of the Bureau. But it didn't matter which typewriter she chose, he would most likely reach her anyway, as the Oldest House and the Dark Place seemed to be connected to another at more than one point.

Of course they were.

_It's not a lake_, after all. _It's an ocean_.

The first thing Jesse saw after falling from the Dark Place was the moving ceiling above her. She stood on her knees, coughing from the dust and observed the empty hall she got thrown into. Nothing but floating garbage. The hall was so twisted, Jesse barely understood where exactly in the Oldest House she was now.

Her hand, still holding the cursed pen, was covered in flickering shadows and badly hurt. No matter. She doubted that it would work, but there is yet another thing Wake must remember and henceforth not forget. And she didn't manage to warn him about it.

"_Beware of the Hiss_", she wrote on the floor and threw the pen away like a flask of poison.

This was bad, very, very bad!

So hard to admit that Wake had no other option but to choose between two evils.

Yet she needed him here.

She had to hurry.

To the Core.

For this was the only place she knew for sure that she could find him again, there was no time to search for anything else. The Oldest House twirled its walls, building a corridor to lead the way, and Jesse braced herself and jumped into the air to fly inside.

Her right hand still hurt and emitted shadows. And she felt dizzy all the sudden. As the pain became unbearable, Jesse clumsily landed on the floor, and the twisted corridor quickly changed into some other faceless room.

_Must hurry… the Hiss… it mustn't hurt… should contact Wake._

Something was wrong. Her head filled with hazy clouds and noisy thoughts that had no sense together. But the Oldest House was _her_ House, it will help her to move on, it will. That venom from the pen was the cause… and somewhere in her subconsciousness Jesse felt how something was slipping away from her mind, dissolving into nothingness with those shadow flows coming from her hand.

She collapsed on the floor and froze still.

The Core…

She must get there… And she will.

No matter what… whatever it takes…


	18. Return into Madness I

**~Chapter 17~**

She remembers everything now. Oh, how could she... She blamed Wake for losing control over his memories while she felt just the same. But not anymore.

Jesse still wondered how she managed to find the way through the twisted maze of moving rooms and changing walls. But here they were, in the empty cafeteria that luckily stayed untouched by the disasters of the past hours. They two sat at the table while Scratch was walking in circles drowned in his thoughts, and Jesse watched Wake eating sandwiches which she found for him here. After all the time trapped in the Dark Place, now that he was finally feeling human again, he surely must regain his lost strength.

Jesse silently snorted. Well, this was still between them, no one else knew about the recent events that made her babysitting Wake, warning him from any stupidness.

But, at least, it worked well!

Observing his face closely, Jesse ripped the silence after a while.

"You don't look so well, Alan", she said in worry. "I think you still need more rest."

Still chewing, Wake looked up.

"Iff ofay, I dunt ffhink—"

"Swallow your food before you speak, writer, you disgust me!" snarled Scratch, glancing at Wake from the corner of his eye, while he kept walking up and down behind them. Wake quickly gulped the rest of the sandwich and turned around.

"Shut up, you're not my babysitter!" A slight smirk formed on Wake's lips as Scratch snorted angrily in response, then the writer looked back at Jesse. "It's okay", he added towards her. "I don't think I'll need more rest."

And yet, despite Wake said it in the most convincing voice he was able to achieve, his body belied his words: he shivered like from a cold, his eyes burned with tiredness, that piercing headache pulsing right behind his temples… he felt as if even a century of sleep wouldn't be enough to bring his old power back.

"You shouldn't lie to me, Alan", Jesse smiled. "We have agreed that you'll tell me everything that happens to you. So I'll know when I can finally let you go out into the world again, right?"

_And when you're ready to know the whole sense of everything_, she added in a thought.

Wake must be well prepared to meet the truth face to face – because he _must_ know it, no matter how horrible it was, no matter how terrible the consequences could be. Knowledge was power, especially in their hands.

"Alright, alright, I got it… No more lies. Perhaps I _am_ a bit tired", Wake admitted with a shrug. "But it's just a bit, I swear. No big deal."

Jesse nodded slightly at his words, and when Wake took another bite of the sandwich, she raised her head to look at Scratch. He wouldn't be able to stop her now.

Scratch froze still as he noticed Jesse's eyes resting on him. He shortly glanced towards Wake, then he look back at her. His face was confused for a second, but then he put two and two together and slightly, almost unnoticeably, shook the head.

"Don't you dare!" Despite Scratch didn't even move his lips, his words echoed within Jesse's head as if he was whispering right into her ear. She raised her eyebrow and shook her head, too, without saying anything, yet this didn't seem to be enough for him. "Shut up", he added sharply, "don't tell him, just let it be!"

"I should", Jesse said soundlessly, replying to him within her thoughts. "One day, I should."

Still chewing at the sandwich, Wake looked up to Jesse, then he turned around to Scratch, frowning as he saw both of them staring at each other. While the look in Jesse's eyes was serious and determined, Scratch's face was almost indifferent, yet Wake didn't fail to notice something else on his Doppelgänger's features, an expression that lay somewhere between shock and… disappointment?

_The hell is going on?_

Wake quickly gulped the rest of the sandwich, his eyes switching between Jesse and Scratch. "What is wrong with you? You weirdos are planning something", he added as none of them answered, "Tell me! Right now!"

"See?" Jesse spoke out loud. "That's fine now, he has a right to know, he would know it anyway, even without me."

"No, he wouldn't know", said Scratch, his voice getting louder with each word until he almost shouted, "not if you keep your goddamn mouth shut!"

Jesse stood up.

"So what? How can I be sure that it won't happen again? If he knows what truly happened, we can prevent it!"

"It _won't_ happen again", yelled Scratch, his raised voice shook from suppressed rage and yet there was slight fear laying in it, maybe even a trace of doubt towards his own words, "you _healed_ him with your childish rainbow sparkle! The darkness can't claim him back, that's not how things _work_!"

"What the bloody hell are you talking about?!" Wake slammed his fist to the table, then he stood up too. "Shut up, Scratch!", he snarled at his twin before he looked at Jesse, his face covered with confusion, impatience and growing anger alike. "And you, _Ms. Faden_, tell me what the hell is going on here!"

_Childish rainbow sparkle, huh?_ Jesse clenched her teeth, regretting of how his situation turned out to be. But this regret didn't last long, as she finally sensed that this was the exact right time for her to confess.

"You never know, Herald", she said calmly. "You _both_ told me that the darkness is eternal, and that it can always return, right?" Jesse then turned to Wake, smiling a forced smile at him. "Alan, I know how you feel. I will tell you. But before that, we better sit back down as this is going to be a quite… uhm… long and tough story."

"Don't call me >_Herald_<, that's not who I am any longer!"

Just then the tone in Scratch's voice cracked. He gnashed his teeth, clenching his hands to fists and suddenly the air around him began to glow in a strange light. It took only a moment, shorter than a blink of the eye: Scratch dissolved right in front of them, just to take appearance anew behind Jesse; a small sound of surprise escaped from her mouth when he grabbed her arm forcefully, turned her around and slammed her to the wall.

"That's not how our deal was, **_Director_**", Scratch whispered into her ear, laying a hand on her mouth to hold it shut.

"Scratch! Scratch, no!" From the corner of her eye Jesse saw how Wake reached into his jacket, took out gun and aimed it at Scratch with trembling hands. "Let her go! Don't make me shoot you, I swear I will! It can't be that bad that you're willing to die for it!"

But Scratch didn't pay any attention to Wake's words, it seems as if he didn't even hear them.

"I warned you, Faden, he must _not_ know!" he hissed instead, and his voice got sharper with every word he spoke, until it was once more cold like ice. "My powers might be gone, but that doesn't mean I'm unable to stop you! I told you what will happen if you reveal it!"

She tried to raise a hand, to reach for her gun or to at least call for her inner powers, to do anything else that would sober him up, but his grip was way too strong.

_What the…? He… he should have been weakened, how could he still—?_

But her train of thought was harshly cut off when she saw it: the familiar dark twinkle was flickering through his eyes, just like it did countless times before.

_No, hell no, not again!_

Jesse struggled more against Scratch and somehow… somehow she managed to bite his hand and spitted it out of her mouth.

"Don't you blame me for not caring about him", she hissed, "because I _do_! That's why I want – why I _need_ – to warn him!"

But neither the pain, nor her harsh words made Scratch come back to sanity. Instead he grabbed Jesse by the shoulder, and pushed her even stronger to the wall with one hand, while he reached into his jacket with the other.

"How can you dare?!" he snarled and drew his knife from the inner pocket… but when he raised the blade Jesse's throat, looking straight at her without even blinking, something seemed to change within his eyes; it was like a layer of glass that shattered apart; the dark twinkle flickered and began to fade away, his grip around Jesse's neck loosened, and there remained nothing but an expression on his face that lay between confusion, shock and fear. "I-I didn't mean to—"

Yet he never got the chance to finish the sentence, or to even release his grip entirely – just then the ear-deafening sound of a gunshot sliced through the air and Scratch slumped into Jesse's arms; the knife he held fell to the ground with a clanking noise.


	19. Return into Madness II

**~Chapter 18~**

"What the—!" Jesse caught Scratch falling and held his heavy body to herself. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I just, I…" she whispered rapidly, full of apology and fear, and lifted her wet eyes on the one who made the shot. "Y-You didn't have to…"

">_I didn't have to_<? He tried to _kill_ you, for heaven's sake! What would you have done?!" Having put the gun into his jacket, Wake came closer to them. He bended over Scratch and reached for his neck to feel a pulse. "He'll live, don't worry, he's just knocked out", Wake added and kicked the abandoned knife out of reach as he straightened again. "That sneaky bastard can't die by a simple gunshot, not even now."

And indeed Jesse noticed a faint shadow that leaked from Scratch's back while another laid on the marks that her teeth had left behind on his hand, covering both wounds like a translucent band-aid. Relieved that Scratch will survive, Jesse laid him on the floor and sat down on the ground herself, hugging her legs while her hands, again, were covered in blood. Wake sat down near to her, and for a moment she saw a trace of the old cold hate reflected on the writer's face when he glanced at Scratch – even though it was gone again after only a second, it was more than enough for Jesse to notice.

"Alan, it's just a glitch", she said, her ears still ringing from the shot he made. "He's on our side now, remember? And he proved this to me way earlier today – _before_ we fought the Hiss – with one very solid fact…" She sighed and placed her trembling hand on Wake's shoulder. "He was trying to _save_ you, without any intentions to kill."

Wake snorted.

"I'm sorry Jesse, I can hardly believe that", he said almost mockingly. "But go on, what happened exactly? Hurry, before he wakes up again."

"The manuscript. The one Saga Anderson gave to me… Your mind is clear now, you should remember, right?" Jesse looked straight into Wake's eyes. "It was _yours_, wasn't it? You wrote it."

Wake looked back at her. He didn't say anything at first, but then – having thought for a moment – he slowly nodded.

"I remember that I wrote it… but not what exactly was _written_ in it. It's still like a dark cloud. And the details I _do_ remember don't make any sense."

_This is the dead-end, no turning back._ And yet Jesse was afraid of saying it straight. She still wasn't completely sure if he could really handle it. But he **_had_** to know the truth, no matter how horrible it was…

"It was about murdering Alex Casey and hurting Saga…"

"No! No way, I—"

"It was about… luring me into your case along with the whole Bureau", she quickly continued and focused a point above Wake's shoulder to avoid meeting eyes with him. "To make us all _and_ the Hiss surrender to the Dark Presence, to make us its new weapon. Casey's murder was like a bait for me as it challenged me to learn everything about your life and your power." Having released a sigh, Jesse finally looked at the writer; his face was just as pale like it had been when she had shown the manuscript to him a few hours ago. "Now I know the reason behind this all… I wonder why _you_ don't."

"I… I _didn't_ kill Casey! I might've _written_ that he _gets_ murdered, but I didn't _kill_ him! I would _remember_ if I did, I remember _writing_ it too after all!" Wake shook his head, then he glanced at Scratch, who still laid unconscious on the ground. "If I wrote it… I must have written that _he_ kills Casey. I would _never_ kill anybody just like that!"

"But then we wouldn't have fought to death if it was Scratch who murdered Casey. We both know quite well that he's a killer, why should he have tried to hide it then, huh?" Jesse forcibly turned Wake's head to herself. "Listen. Memory is strength. You need this strength, for you're still weak now. And you will be used again ever after if you don't know who you truly are and if you don't _accept_ it… Think about it, Alan. Remember that I'm not your enemy, I want you to _think_!"

_Memory is strength… Think… used again…_

Jesse's words circled within Wake's head. He knew she was right. Now, after all these years, he was finally free from Jagger and her toxic influence; he would be a fool if he gave her the chance to pull him back into the Dark Place, to start this madness all anew. And just because he didn't want to accept the truth…

No, he couldn't let that happen! It would hurt, but he had to _think_, he had to _remember_!

Wake's face tensed for a second as the glimpse of a distant memory stirred inside of his subconsciousness. This memory had been hidden long ago, was best left in the dark, but he had to shed light on it, for it held the answer to all this.

To the question why he suddenly _knew_ about Jesse and the Federal Bureau of Control, despite he had never heard of them before in his entire life.

Why he was able to contact her in first place.

How everything fit together…

And then, something appeared before his inner eye – a bright image that flashed through his mind like a flickering film, unstoppable and as gruesome as it could possibly be:

_He was standing in a dark corridor of an abandoned building, clenching a knife in his hand; the silver blade was covered with blood, just like his own fingers, and beneath his feet there was a pool of red in which laid something… no **someone**: a man with a once piercing-through glance of which remained nothing but an empty stare – his eyes as cold and dead as the lifeless body itself._

Jesse kept looking at Wake. Moments that seemed like an eternity passed, but then she saw how his eyes widened for a second and his face – having already been pale before – lost even more of its color.

"I-I…" he whispered, his hands started to tremble and soon his whole body shook. "I killed Casey… I murdered an innocent…"

_Oh no, not again… He's losing it once more, well done, Jesse._

"Hush, brace yourself, it's not your fault." Jesse pulled Wake to herself. He didn't resist against her, not even when she leaned his head to her shoulder. "Back then, it wasn't you. It wasn't _you_."

Well, that's what Scratch tried to prevent. But hell, Wake should have been told it, sooner or later, she will never admit anything else. Her hands were shaking, too; the most of the powers were still unrecovered, yet she held him tight, stroking his hair, waiting for him to calm down.

"Of course it was me", Wake sobbed hoarsely and covered his face with a palm. "I am to blame, no one else. I killed Casey… How could I? I always fought to break free of there, to get back to Alice, but for which price! I'm a murderer, I should've never escaped from the Dark Place."

"Oh, shut up!" she slightly slapped him on the nape. "Hmph, >_you shouldn't escape_<, stop saying this nonsense."

"I-It's true. A murderer belongs to hell, the Dark Place is even worse. I belong there, I should've died there."

_Goddammit!_

"No, you _don't_, can't you see it?" Jesse shook Wake's shoulders and held them so tight and painful that it made him lift his head and glance at her. "Don't you dare to tell me that all I've done for you is in vain, huh? Huh?!"

_>Just for science<, just >to examine his powers<, >to learn his inner light<, right, Jesse?_

She bit her lower lip. They were definitely bound. And she wouldn't let him go so easily, especially not now when he was like this, what was she even thinking about!

"**_Wake_**!" Jesse grabbed his shoulders even closer. "I didn't pull you out of there just for you to lose it now! Get yourself together, you hear me?"

He looked straight back at Jesse, not responding, not blinking, and for a moment it seemed as if he didn't hear her. But then he closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

"Y-you're right", he whispered, and when he looked back at Jesse a strange glimmer appeared in his eyes, just as if he was trying to accept that he hadn't been in control of his actions, that it was the Dark Presence that had once more made use of him. "I can't make it undone… but still I should've found another way. N-not this way…"

Just then, Scratch stirred. For a moment he saw nothing around himself, only blinding whiteness; he didn't hear anything either, but only the felt dull waves of pain that flowed through his body with every breath he took. Yet the pain didn't manage to silence his thoughts.

_Did he just really—? Hell, how could this happen, even after—?_

He coughed hard and groaned from the burning feeling that shot through his chest, spreading from right between his shoulders and proving what he already suspected. And yet it banished the blindness away, along with the deafness that had fallen upon him.

Hearing two voices nearby – one belonging to Jesse, the other to Wake – Scratch sat up. He blinked a few times to focus his view and when the last remains of the whiteness all around finally faded away, he looked up. His eyes switched from Jesse to Wake and back.

A moment long like an eternity passed, until it suddenly struck him: the remorseful expression on the writer's face, the traces of dried tears on his cheeks, the terrified look within his eyes that was already fading away… It didn't take a genius to understand what had happened.

"You… you told him…!", Scratch whispered almost silently.

Jesse quickly stood up and stepped aside from him and Wake. A lump stuck in her throat, making it hard for her to speak and even breathe.

"Before you ask me… I'll cover both of you", she said, her voice treacherously trembling as she spoke. "No one puts you in jail or anything… and no one will ever know."

">_Jail_<", echoed Scratch, "I won't be put in jail. Nothing can stop me, remember? Especially not any pathetic borders made by human hand!"

Snorting mockingly, Scratch rose to his feet as well. Another sharp pain pierced through his body, but he forcibly pushed it away, gritting his teeth as he glanced at Wake for a second before his eyes came to rest at Jesse.

"You told him despite you promised not to", he hissed sharply, not even bothering to hide any of his anger. "You _promised_ it, Director! For the first time in my entire life I _trusted_ someone else than myself and you broke it just like that. But don't worry, I learned my lesson. >_Trust_< is only an illusion, I knew it all along. I hate you. You and every single one of your cursed kind!"

"I _never_ said that I am _kind_!", Jesse yelled back, "I'm no saint, either!" She caught up some concrete dust from the floor with her gravity powers and threw it at Scratch. "I'm a freaking murderer too, don't you dare to make any difference between us!"

"There _is_ a difference between us", Scratch said calmly and raised a hand; the concrete dust froze still in the air and fell back to the ground when he lowered his arm again. "When you killed, you did in self-defense, you didn't have any other choice. But _I_ did. I could've fought it, at least resisted against it somehow, but instead I let it happen, dooming those who crossed my way. Also, I didn't mean >being kind<, Director", he added, and out of a sudden there was a strange expression laying within his eyes, one that she had never seen before. "I meant the >cursed **_human_**kind<. Because that's exactly what you are: you call yourselves the summit of creation but in the end you're nothing else than pathetic liars. I would've died to keep this secret away from Wake… not in _your_ way of understanding but in _my_ way. If the Dark Presence tries to kill you, it's not over just like that; it goes much deeper, the things Wake experienced are kids' stuff compared to that. But well, it doesn't matter any longer, nothing does…"

For less than a second something reminding of a knowing smirk flashed across Scratch's face and only after, without another word, he left for the hallway.

"**You're not going! **… Nngh!" Jesse hissed from rage and regrets, then she once more raised a hand. The carpet tape beneath Scratch's feet moved back to the cafeteria with a single wave; he staggered and froze still, yet he didn't turn around.

"And what do you think will change my mind, Director?", he asked instead. "Your >_trust_<? The >_honesty of your intentions_<? The fact that you _>pretend_< to _>care_< about me?" Scratch pronounced all of these words as if they were the deepest insult possible and once more snorted mockingly. "Or is it rather the fear that you'll lose another object of your >_scientific interest_<? Maybe you're also afraid that the Hiss will break free when I shatter your pathetic barrier? I can take this worry from you; I know my ways to keep your little pet trapped within its chains."

Jesse gritted her teeth at his accusing words. It wasn't true… none of this! She only wished to help, to keep them save – _both of them_ – how could he dare to—

"None of these, Scratch", suddenly said a voice behind them. Despite not more than an almost inaudible whisper, it loudly cut through Jesse's thoughts. Shivering and sweating she glanced over a shoulder to the one who spoke. Wake looked back at her for less than a second, then he raised his glance towards Scratch. The writer's mind raced with paradoxical thoughts; Scratch was his nemesis, but still he had tried to save him from the Dark Place, to protect him from the truth. He said he would have died for that. And – recalling what had happened to them all earlier – Wake didn't doubt it. How was he supposed to still hate this man after all they had been through today? "There's only one thing that should keep you from going: your own will to be free."

"_Freedom_ is nothing more than an illusion either, writer", Scratch said, the bitter smile that had once more found its way on his lips was echoing clearly within each of his words. "For a short moment I hoped that Trench had set me free for real, that I could live a sort of normal life among humans. What a foolish thought, I should've known better. The Darkness inside me left a stain, it will never leave. No matter how far I run or how hard I try to prevent it, _They_ will always find me in the end. And They'll make me pay, I'm a traitor for Them after all. They planned to kill me from the very beginning. So why should I make it difficult for Them? To delay the inevitable? To risk dragging others into all of this just to live in shallow peace for a time? Hell no… I may be a bastard, but I'm not selfish like that." Eventually, Scratch eventually turned around looking first at Wake, then at Jesse. "Farewell. May we meet again in another life. And under better circumstances."

He then bowed a bit, just as much as the wound on his back allowed him to, and only after shadows covered him and his form dissolved into nothingness.

"**_Scratch_**!" Jesse rushed to him, hoping to grab his hand or collar or anything else… but he was already gone – there were only flowing shadows left in the thin air that swam around her like floating snakes.

_What had she done…?_

Jesse screamed out in rage and all the tables and chairs slid away from her with a painful squeak. She clasped her head and bended, standing with her back to Wake, afraid to look at him. And then she felt the writer's heavy hand on her shoulder.

"It's not your fault, Jesse", said Wake and squeezed her shoulder gently. "It's mine. I pushed you to tell me."

"I would have said it anyway…" she answered weakly and, without thinking, laid her hand on his.

"And he would've gone anyway, no matter if you have told me or not. He's as stubborn as me in this case."

Suddenly, Wake pulled Jesse to himself and her eyes confusingly moved around as he carefully stroke across her back, but she didn't refuse his embrace; she accepted it, just like he did before.

"I doubt he'll be back. That's what I'm afraid of."

"No he won't. Not if the Dark Presence really kills him."

"Sacrifice some, and you'll save the others", sighed Jesse, clenching his hands tighter, "what a killing irony."

"But it's the rule of life, Jesse. And even more the rule of the Dark Place… those like us should know best…"

Just then, the walls around them shivered; it was only a slight change, almost unnoticeable, but Jesse noticed it anyway, startling from the disturbance that it caused within her inner powers. And in the same moment the grey concrete switched color first to a pale blue, before they flickered to green and after another moment to red.

"The House", she whispered and took a step back from Wake. "He seems to break through!"

">_Break through_<?" Wake's eyes rested on the glowing walls for a second before he looked back at her. "Break through what?"

"The barrier! The one protecting the outside world from us!" Jesse fled to the closest wall and leaned on it, evoking her rainbow aura to spread it into the concrete. And as she did it, she heard a faint, yet familiar voice that echoed from the walls, as if they were whispering by themselves:

"No… You won't stop me, don't you even try to! The Hiss will stay right here, no need to worry about that!"

"You won't go", she hissed back. "Only over my dead body!"

Jesse spread more and more of the rainbow light around herself, sending it into the wall, and finally, after what seemed like an eternity to her, the color of the wall switched back from red to green. Almost like a response there was a crack like thunder – dark sparks burst from the concrete, crawling through Jesse's fingers all the way up into her arm, and when it reached her shoulder an invisible power forcefully separated her hand from the wall, knocking her off her feet.

"Whoa!" Jesse fell on the floor and the colors of her aura turned grey and pale, quickly dissolving within her body. Wake rushed to her and reached for her shoulders to raise her to the feet again.

"Don't fight with him", he said and grabbed her wrist close when she came to stand. "He won't give in, it's not worth it, Jesse!"

"I'm fine, I'm fine… I still would…"

Jesse tried to get away from the writer, but she had to lean to him as her head was still spinning from the collapsing and the power loss. And then the green concrete once more melted into red and another howl, sparkling like a thousand whispers, reached them from somewhere far away. Still holding her hand close, Wake raised his head to the ceiling above.

"It must be the Hiss", Jesse answered before he even had a chance to ask. "I have to stop him! He'll break the barrier and then he'll let it out!"

She got rid of Wake's grip and touched the wall again when the glow changed from red to orange, and once more she heard Scratch's hissing voice from within the concrete:

"You won't come with me, you bastard, you'll stay here like you're supposed to!"

Just then, another spark of darkness burst from the wall. Yet this one – despite it was passing by close enough to leave a cold feeling on Jesse's skin – hit neither her nor Wake; instead it darted across the room and disappeared into the corridor. And only a second later, another howl tore the air apart, but it was different than the one before, full of pain and agony.

_But where are they? How will she reach them before the barrier falls apart?_

Oh, may the Oldest House help her!

"Stay here, I'll go find them." Heavily breathing, Jesse released her hand from the wall, and – having picked up the abandoned knife from the ground – ran to the entrance of the cafeteria.

"No way, I won't just stay here and do nothing!" Wake rushed after her and pulled out his flashlight – its beam flickered a little, yet it was still bright enough for now. "Where _is_ this barrier?" he asked and shone the light down the corridor. "We should catch him there, talking reason to him."

_That'll be the hardest part, though_, he thought. Even when they managed to reach Scratch in time, he surely wouldn't change his mind just like that. And still they had to try!

Jesse hid Scratch's knife behind her jacket's bosom and shortly smiled. She knew Wake won't listen. And she was glad of it.

"It's everywhere, Alan, that's the thing. And Scratch can be anywhere in the building…"

_But the roaring beast lurking in the House will surely ease their search._

"So, you won't leave me, I see", she said with a grin, noting to herself that Wake's bravery was completely back.

"Of course I won't. We're in this together", said Wake and grinned back to her. "We'll either stop him… or die trying."

_Oh well, that suits him much better_, thought Jesse,_ so much better than the sobbing mess he had been only a few minutes ago._

"Then follow me and stay close." She straightened a hand to him and smiled again when he accepted her invitation, grabbing her hand close.

She might have broken her promise for Scratch, but she surely fulfilled the one for Wake. And deep within her soul, she was very happy about being on one side with him.

"Let's go, Wake."

She led him through the corridor to its dead-end, which got twisted as they reached the door. And behind it, there was a huge open space made of stone and plastic with its floating architecture and the deep bottom far below.

It had been a fully different place when they first came to this wing of the building, but well, the Oldest House surely knew best how to survive its own curses.

"Hell, your House **_is_** a weird one, no doubt on that." Wake shortly looked down into the abyss, but quickly raised his eyes again; the height made him feel dizzy. "What now? I don't think it's safe to cross… We have to find another way."

"Don't worry, we can do this. Just hold on to me."

Jesse clenched his hand and jumped over the edge and made him follow.

Wake held his breath when the floor went away beneath his feet. He was about to scream as he was afraid of falling… but he didn't fall. Instead, he was floating together with Jesse within the ever-changing space spinning around them like they were its axis. Just then, another terrific howl of the Hiss tore the air apart and the walls around them changed color once more: this time the orange faded away to be replaced by violet and Jesse worryingly observed the hallway that darkened more and more with every second passing.

Damn, Scratch had already broken five of the barriers core-points, there wasn't much time left now, they had to hurry!

Clenching his wrist even more, Jesse waved her free hand and the pieces of broken concrete united in a wind flow that caught them up and made them swim to the pulsing light ahead. The twisting passage shined brighter and brighter as Wake and Jesse passed through it, then there was a blinding burst of light and a crack like from thunder – and when the light faded away the space around them had changed appearance, revealing a long corridor that was only illuminated by the flickering glow of the crumbling barrier.

Countless black sparks burst from the walls, darting through the corridor with seemingly no aim. Yet with each of them disappearing into the distance another otherworldly howl crashed down on their ears that came closer slowly but steadily.

"I don't like this darkness", said Wake, wavering around with his flashlight to aim it at the dark flows that passed by closest to them. "I have a bad feeling about this. There's no way that Scratch would spread it all alone."

Jesse looked back at him and silently pulled him behind, while they kept floating through the corridor. And when the walls around them shook once more as their color switched to yellow, the former faceless hallway changed into something she quickly recognized; huge letters and numbers were painted on the concrete, indicating the current level of the building – it was floor 18, restored from the blackness that had destroyed it hours ago.

"No way!", Jesse said with a gasp. She stopped floating and hung on in one point, not believing her eyes at first. "We're back here?"

"Floor 18?", asked Wake, having glanced at the inscription on the wall. "What was here?"

"Here… Scratch destroyed your manuscript in here", answered Jesse after lingering.

"Huh, I see", he nodded. This definitely went so far. But before he could give it a closer thought, the walls around them shook again, even more violently than before, and sharp shards of concrete fell down from the ceiling, barely missing them.

"This is not good…", said Jesse. "Hold on close, Wake!"

Wake shortly screamed from surprise when she once more launched them both into the air. Holding him closer under her arms, Jesse flew with him as fast as she could, and the further they passed through the hallways of the 18th floor, the more Wake heard it: a familiar voice echoed from down the corridor, sounding weak and exhausted, yet rapidly whispering harsh words in a language unknown to both Jesse and Wake, unknown to humankind at all. That voice, sounding like his own, loudly rang in Wake's ears, calling for disturbing feelings he tried to crush. But he knew that he had to be stronger than that; what was done was done, there was no way to change the past and thus no use to linger in it; he should handle what happened and live with it. Especially now, after all he had been through with Jesse Faden.

Far ahead, in the very room where Jesse had read the manuscript, a lone figure stood with his back to them. Breathing heavily and pressing a hand firmly onto the wall, he kept mumbling in his harsh language, and with each word he spoke, the glow around them darkened bit by bit. Forced to reveal the barriers' final stage, the Oldest House screeched and shuddered from every side, and when Scratch sank down on one knee, lowering his head as if to pray, the glow of the walls changed a last time: the yellow color gave way to a dark indigo blue. Just then a loud crack like from thunder tore the air apart and the wall before Scratch faded away as if it was merely an illusion to the human eye. Blinding flashes of light and darkness burst from the walls and floor and ceiling; they mixed into the colors of the broken barrier that switched rapidly from one to the next and sparkled like a liquid rainbow, and within less than a second a glowing bridge took shape straight from thin air that lead across an ocean of black nothingness spreading far beyond the physical borders of the Oldest House.

"Scratch!" yelled Wake, jumping off from Jesse's embrace as they reached the room. "Goddammit, you can't be serious about that!" He ran towards his twin and harshly grabbing him by the elbow. "Maybe it wasn't the best time that Jesse told me right away, but so what? I would've known it anyway, and I have to learn to live with it, better now than later, right?!"

"You're missing the point, writer." Scratch clenched his hands to fists, not looking at him. "This isn't about you any longer; it's about preventing damage before it's caused."

"Stop saying this bullshit!"

"It's far from that. I might've been able to deny my task to kill you, but I can't deny the fact that _They_ will find me in the end. It's for the best, writer. Believe me, I know."

">For the best<, huh? Do you want to know what **_I_** consider for the best?"

With one fluid motion, Wake grabbed Scratch from behind with one hand and pulled out his gun with the other, clenching his teeth as he aimed its tip right between the Herald's shoulders.

"Alan! What the—?"

"Stay back, Jesse, this is between the two of us!" yelled Wake over a shoulder before she could do anything, and only after he hissed to Scratch: "Do I really have to knock you out a second time?"

"Screw you and your heroism, Wake", snarled Scratch back. "This isn't for you to decide, it's **_my_** choice, and **_you_** won't take it away! Get your hands off me right now or you'll regret it!"

From the corner of his eye Wake saw how Scratch's clenched hands began to tremble. No way to tell if it was from growing weakness or suppressed rage, but he knew that this wouldn't end well. And yet, Wake was not willing to admit a defeat – and if words weren't enough to stop this madness, then actions had to follow!

Wake tightened his grip on Scratch, gritting his teeth as he reached for the trigger of his gun… but he never managed to pull it, as suddenly a lot of things happened at once: within less than a second the air around changed, feeling as if it was charged with electricity; a sharp coldness like from ice pierced into tips of Wake's fingers, creeping all the way up into his arm and leaving a numbness behind that quickly spread through his whole body... and then – without any chance to prevent it – Wake was knocked off his feet; he hardly crashed on the floor. Tasting the bitterness of his own blood, Wake raised his head, but even this small movement made everything spin before his eyes spin with a sickening dizziness.

"Alan!" Jesse landed near the writer on the floor and – seeing him lacking of any strength – worryingly sank on one knee beside him, before she raised her glance at Scratch, "Wh-what have you done?!"

Scratch didn't answer on that. He only stared coldly at them, and when more of the dark sparks scattered from his fingers Jesse instinctively raised her hand, calling for her own powers to protect herself and the writer. But to her surprise the darkness rushing toward them hit neither her, nor Wake – instead it passed right through Jesse's aura and exploded on the wall behind them. Flowing shadows crawled over concrete, twisting and turning, covering everything like a translucent wallpaper, and only after something heavy crashed against the flowing shadows with a nasty sound; another furious howl tore the silence apart, and despite Scratch shortly winced like from an electric shock, his face remained vacant.

"The Hiss will be hold back until the very moment _They_ shatter my soul", he said with an indifference like he would talk about the weather instead of his own fate. "You must just restore your own barrier, Director, then everything will be fine. I'd do it myself, but that's beyond my craft; you know this better than me."

Just then the flickering shape of a building from black concrete appeared far ahead. Without saying another word, Scratch turned around and carefully placed one foot on the bridge, just as if to make sure that it'll carry his weight. After he had taken a few steps, limping because of the extreme use of his powers, his form dissolved into nothingness, and there only remained the sounds of the crashing waves of the black ocean below, the fading roar of the Hiss that already searched for another spot to break through… and the sizzling noise of the bridge's dark energy which didn't fade away even though Scratch was gone.

"You've got to be kidding me, come back!" Wake once more tried to stand up, but Jesse caught his hand and pulled him back on the ground.

"What the hell, stay back! Are you crazy?!"

"No, I-I won't… I won't allow it! Come back, you bastard! I'm not done with you, you hear me? Come back, I said!" yelled Wake, struggling against Jesse's grip "Let me go, Jesse! Let me **_go_**!"

"Screw that, Alan!" she yelled back and held him even tighter, as strong as she was able to. "Do you want to be trapped in there again? Over my dead body!"

And Jesse nervously looked at the room's twisting walls that were still covered with the rainbow colored glow and flowing darkness. She needed to close the barrier. No one in the building seemed to be with them in time, it was up to her now. But if she released her grip on Wake, he'd manage to escape. She wouldn't let that happen!

"I… I won't— Argh!" Suddenly a blinding flash of light burst from Wake's body and she shortly screamed from the sharp pain that shot through her palm when it got forcefully separated his wrist. Yet Wake either didn't notice it, or he didn't care: having scrambled to his feet, the writer grabbed both his flashlight and gun from the ground and once more dashed towards the glowing bridge,

"Alan!" Watching him run away, Jesse straightened her hand to him – it was bleeding, yet it still had the old power in its veins. "Stay right back!" she yelled and clenched her hand to a fist, calling for her inner powers. And they replied, making bridge shake violently under the writer's feet.

Wake froze still, instinctively flailing with his arms to keep his balance, but in the end he didn't manage to. Having fallen to his knees, he turned his head to look at Jesse, then he glanced towards the flickering black building ahead and again back at her.

She was right. He had fought so hard to escape from the Dark Place, to be with Alice again… Hell, he even let the Dark Presence control him to kill Alex Casey! He would a fool to risk being trapped again. But still…

"I can't. If that bastard dies because he sacrifices himself it'll haunt me forever… Forever, Jesse! You either come with me, or I'll go alone!"

Jesse wished to convince him once more… but the growing pain in her hand cut away the power she was about to release, and she, too, fell on her knees.

"Don't make me force you!" she cried out with strangled voice and revealed her gun from behind the jacket's bosom. She didn't aim it at Wake, though, hoping that her mere intention was enough to stop him… but it wasn't. And Jesse silently cursed towards the smug grin that formed on the writer's face.

"What are you going to do? Shoot me? I'm not invulnerable, don't forget that." Wake rose to his feet again, and as he came to stand, the smirk faded away to an expression that was as serious as it could possibly be. "I don't force you to come with me, it's your own choice. But I won't stay aside when I am still able to change things!"

And only after, without another word or even looking back another time, he turned his back to her and ran towards the flickering building.

"No, it's not my choice, not anymore!" Jesse touched the floor, sending a signal to the ones who were up to close the barrier instead of her. "I'm going _outside_, don't close the barrier until I'm back! Pressure the Hiss if it's on your way but keep the barrier open!"

And when she stood up, she roared in anger – to Wake, to Scratch, to the whole nightmare of today – and dashed across the bridge to catch up with the writer.

Hearing Jesse's hasted footsteps behind himself, Wake slightly smirked and when she caught up to him he smiled at her – open and honestly.

"I knew you won't let me down."

"Shut the hell up…" Jesse blurted out, heavily breathing. Yet she couldn't admit that she was still angry at him or disappointed. This all was long gone when she finally reached him.

Wake smirked more, then reached into his jacket and took out a package of batteries which he had found in one of the Oldest House's offices earlier. Having replaced the old batteries of his flashlight, Wake checked the brightness of the beam before he switched it off again. He had no idea what they would be facing now, better save the batteries as long as possible.

For a while they walked across the bridge without speaking any word, only the noise of the crashing waves below their feet and the constant humming sound of the bridge's energy broke the silence around them.

"I doubt I'd be able to do this all alone", Wake whispered eventually and stood still to place a hand on her shoulder. "I'm glad you're with me. Thank you, Jesse."

And Jesse placed her hand above his and shortly smiled at him, still grumpy a bit, but openly relieved as she saw it clear – he wasn't crazy, and he was real.

"There's no need. We're bound now, remember?"

"Yes, you said that before. How did you do it, anyway? Is it because you healed me with your—" Wake bit his tongue but then he grinned and decided to finish this sentence anyway. "—with your >_childish rainbow sparkle_<?"

Jesse strongly flapped on his shoulder.

"Shut up, I said! Let's go already."

"You still owe this answer to me, don't think I'll forget it." Wake grinned more but after a moment the expression on his face became serious again, and he nodded. "You're right, we should hurry."

And when he ran towards the flickering building in the distance, holding his flashlight and gun close, Jesse followed behind as fast as she could.

  
  



	20. Return into Madness III

**~Chapter 19~**

The building they were walking to was unlike any area of the Dark Place Wake had seen ever before. Its giant walls – reaching far up into the colorless sky that there was no roof to be seen – were made from pitch-black concrete and it seemed as if the whole building had been carved out from one giant rock, without any gaps or corners or edges. Inky shadows crept across the outside of the building like liquid smoke and the only thing that was standing out from the flawless surface was the faint red-glowing shape of a gate, right in front of them.

Wake gulped and grabbed his flashlight and gun closer. He remembered that the Dark Place was a location that was always in motion, always shifting, taking its very appearance from the memories of the people trapped in it. But this obviously wasn't any of his memories, and it surely couldn't be any of Jesse's either, as her own Dark Place would surely look like the Oldest House. So if it was neither of their memories, it must be Scratch's… and that meant that this was a part of the Dark Place in its true, unaltered form.

He glanced back towards the broken barrier of the Oldest House that still flickered in the distance. It would be easy just to turn around and go back. No one would know beside him and Jesse. Scratch was most probably already dead anyway. He wouldn't even know.

Wake took a deep breath, then he looked at Jesse who stood beside him, her gun bared and ready to join him in his fight. No, he wouldn't let his fear win. He had a lot of flaws, perhaps more than ordinary people, but cowardice was not among them.

Jesse observed Wake without speaking any word – he surely was ready now to face everything he would have been afraid of before. And if something goes wrong, she'd still be near to fix it and help him out just one more time.

"I have no idea what's lurking inside of there, Jesse", whispered Wake almost silently, as if he was afraid that the creeping shadows or the very building itself could hear him. "Whatever happens, we must stay together. If we get separated we might never find a way out again. Are you ready?"

Jesse looked at her wounded hand. It wasn't bleeding anymore. She moved her fingers and the powers within replied with a weak glow.

_Yes, she_ _ **is** ready, that's for sure._

And she nodded confidently.

"Alright… alright…" Wake took another deep breath and laid a hand on the gate in front of him, hoping it would open just by his touch. Moments after moments passed, but nothing happened. He switched on his flashlight and shined the beam directly towards the red glow… nothing either. "Shit… how _do_ we even get inside?"

"I guess it's a puzzle for me", Jesse quickly passed Wake and as she touched the other side of the gate with her glowing hand, a cold feeling crept into her fingers almost instantly, stitching on her skin like a thousand tiny needles. Apart from that, nothing else seemed to happen at first… after a while though the red lines of the gate seemed to glow a bit brighter, yet this change was almost invisible, almost too weak to even make a difference.

"I sense something… if I go deeper…"

Jesse glanced at Wake. She always used so many of her powers to regain control over the Oldest House if it was needed. Yet here, she felt that her usual power push wouldn't be enough, it needed much more. But if she tries… she may fade away.

Wake looked back at her for a moment.

"Don't use too much of your powers, it's not worth it", he said eventually as if he had read her thoughts, then he blinked and looked away. "Scratch is most likely already dead. He won't know. Let's go back…"

"Are you sure?" whispered Jesse and glanced at the red glowing gate, observing it for a long while. "Well… maybe?"

She remembered yelling at Scratch, convincing him not to leave, throwing concrete dust at him in anger. It was her to blame, as she had been the one confessing to Wake about this goddamn manuscript. And yet she felt no remorse for what she had done. Except for only one – the remorse of letting Scratch go.

"No I'm _not_ sure if we should go back", said Wake, his voice trembling. "Neither am I sure if he's already dead! How could I anyway? But _if_ he is, he won't know whether or not we followed him. Or that we went back."

Wake sighed and bit his lower lip. He hated himself for the next words he spoke, feeling an immense guilt building up within his chest in the very moment he said them: "Listen, he never wanted us to be here. And if we restore the barrier everything will be fine, that's what he said. The memory at him will fade with time… We'll forget about him and what happened and return to our normal lives."

Jesse intensively shook her head while listening to what he spoke about.

"N-no, no, we won't, we can't forget _this_, not after _that_ much what happened to us!"

"One day, we will." Wake laid his hand on her shoulder. "It'll be only a distant memory, a glimpse of thought, nothing more. We won't even be able to tell if this all hadn't been a bad dream after all."

Suddenly Wake jolted as if he got an electric shock. Reaching into his jacket, he took out a blank piece of paper – the very page that he had taken with him from the cabin after Jesse's hand had been pricked by the cursed pen.

"Wait, no!" Jesse caught his hand before he managed to see what's on it or to even take a closer look. "Our typewriter sessions, remember? You've been telling me that those directly involved in any change of time will _always_ remember the change. We _can't_ forget it, right? No matter how hard anyone tries to re—", she cut her sentence and removed her hand, continuing in lower voice. "No matter how hard anyone tries to rewrite it?"

"We might not be able to forget it, but we can learn to accept it… to live with it… _trying_ to forget", said Wake and his hands started to tremble. He _knew_ that his words weren't true. He _knew_ that both of them would always remember what happened. And he _knew_ that he only said it to ease his own feeling of guilt.

But then, before he could even give it another thought, a sharp pain pierced into his fingers. Wake flinched again, and almost threw the page away when it became hot like fire, burning on his skin… within less than a second though, the heat was gone again and when Wake raised the page, he saw fine lines appearing on the former blank paper, scattered all over the page and not making any sense at first.

Jesse saw it too, and she gasped.

_Wasn't it just like… No freaking way, not again!_

"Alan!" Jesse grabbed Wake's wrist and her rainbow light, still glowing on her hand, partly crawled on his skin.

"That's not me, I'm not doing it, I—"

Wake silenced when more and more lines appeared on the page, glowing brightly red, and after a moment they formed real letters in the narrow handwriting that Jesse had seen so often before; yet the words were barely recognizable, as if written by someone who was standing either on the edge of unconsciousness, at the brink of insanity… or both:

N̡͢͡o̸̕͝ ̵w̵͞a̡y̡͟͢ ͟o̵̶҉u̷̵t̵̡,̵ n̛͞ev͟͝e̸̸̛r̸ ̴a̛ga͜͠i̶͞͠n͢

K̴͠i̶l͝l͡ m͢e̷͜ ͠͏al̢͞r͝e̷͠ady̴

J͝u̕s̵͢t͟ ̧en̸ḑ̕ ͢͏i͘͞t̸

"I-I… we…" Gulping hard, Wake eyes from the page. He looked at Jesse and – seeing the same disbelief in her eyes that he was feeling inside of his chest – he knew that they were both thinking the same: Scratch had to be still alive in some way! Fueled by rage and guilt and fear, Wake stepped closer to the gate again and aimed his gun at it.

"How could I even _think_ of going back?!", he yelled, the anger about himself lighting his soul up like a fire. "I'm no freaking coward, I _never_ was! Open up! Open up, I said!"

He pulled the trigger, again and again, but the black concrete reflected each of the bullets as if they were just rays of light falling onto a mirror, not even the slightest scratch was left behind on the flawless surface.

"Wow! Easy, Alan, easy!" Jesse pulled him back. "I doubt very much that this will help us."

"There must be a way, Jesse, there _must be_!" Wake struggled to break free from her grip, but soon his resistance faded away. He made a last shot, but the gate still remained untouched, as if it was a silent but merciless memorial of Wake's own failure, and his voice dropped to a whisper. "There _always_ is…"

"Yes. There's always a way – but not _shooting_ everywhere, that's _not_ the way!" Jesse once more laid a hand on Wake's shoulder. For a moment her aura glowed again, but this time from her back and shoulders. In the same moment the red glow on the gate got brighter again, way brighter than it had before and the shadows covering it stirred, creeping away from the light, as if trying to hide from it. Jesse noticed it and smiled.

"Maaaybe, I should try to feed it with my powers again? Stay here and shine on it with your flashlight. And even if something goes wrong with me, you'll stay still and keep shining, okay?"

For a moment it seemed that Wake didn't hear her words, but in the end he nodded.

"Just… take care not to accidently kill yourself", he said and – having stood up to his feet again – he raised his flashlight once more.

"That's better", Jesse smiled to him and jumped to the gate to lean to it with her whole body and evoke her light to let it spread.

And it _did_ spread, filling the space around her, flowing far and high. And she felt the gate weakening as her aura was reaching for its hidden dark, felt it twisting and turning beneath the pressure of the bright glow, like it was a living being that had been shot with a rifle, an animal that was mortally wounded and now desperately tried to get away from those who hunted it down. But there was no escape for the darkness, not here, not now. She will reach it, she will **_break_** it, she will win again. No matter what, whatever it takes.

The red glow shined brighter and brighter, then there was another ear-deafening noise like from thunder. Large cracks formed on the spots where Jesse was touching the gate with her body, quickly spreading across the whole length and height of the gate, and with the loud noise of breaking glass the barrier shattered into countless glowing shards that fell down on her like solid rain. Just then, an invisible power push knocked Jesse off her feet and she screamed from pain as the energy flow between her and the gate was cut off.

"Jesse!" Wake rushed towards her and grabbed her shoulders tightly, looking straight into her eyes. "What happened? Are you… are you okay?"

Jesse was smiling in relief, yet painfully, desperately, like from long-awaited revenge that was finally committed. Her glow faded away into her skin, and her body was writhing like being under electricity.

"I-i am… I'm… I'm okay, y-you…"

"Shhh… it's alright, it's alright", whispered Wake and carefully stroke her back and shoulders in worry.

What the hell had the darkness done to her?

And the gate…

Wake glanced back over a shoulder. At first nothing seemed to happen, but then – after a moment that seemed to last an eternity – the gate finally swung open.

"You made it, Jesse", he said, smiling as he looked back at her, "you opened it!"

Jesse's eyes opened wide.

"What the…" she whispered and tried to get rid of Wake's embrace, but grabbed his hands again as she felt loosing balance, losing _control_. "You have to go! I mustn't… linger you! Go! _Hurry!_"

"I won't leave you here! We won't separate, remember?" Feeling her weakness, Wake grabbed her hands tighter as well. He knew she was right, she opened the gate for him to proceed, it would be a waste of time if he lingered. But he didn't want to leave her behind.

What if her powers faded away completely?

What if she wouldn't be able to make it back to the Oldest House?

What if the Taken came to get her or – even worse – Jagger herself?

He was worried, anxious, scared, in panic, all of these. If he could only help her to restore her lost powers! He wished nothing else at this very moment… He would never wish for anything else ever again in his entire life!

And then Wake remembered what Scratch had told them both back in the experiment room, when he was about to restore his lost powers just before Wake had prevented it.

_>Wishes and hopes have a lot of power at the Dark Place.<_

That's what Scratch had said. Sure, he was talking about breaking Jagger's influence on himself one day, but still it was true – if the former Herald of Darkness didn't knew, who would know it then? And they _were_ at the Dark Place after all!

Wake closed his eyes, and suddenly a faint glow of white light surrounded his body, radiating from his face and chest, from his neck and his back, leaking from beneath his skin like a flow of water. And when a part of it crawled towards Jesse, spreading from his hand to hers, a weird and unknown feeling of warmth build up inside of her. Yet this warmth was far from being harmful – instead it tickled something deep within Jesse's blood; it was calling for her own inner powers to make them emerge back to the surface.

Jesse was blinking in surprise while her powers were coming back. She stopped shivering, and she sensed her former energy strengthening her again, like it was restored after a long time of sleep to fill the holes of the emptied soul. And only when the white light from his body faded away, she dared to break the silence.

"How… How did you do that?"

Wake opened his eyes, and an expression of confusion and fear was covering his face, when his hands started to tremble.

"I… I don't know… I…"

Jesse smiled. Here it was, the thing she had been waiting for. His inner light, the pure power that needed no words, no tools. Just a single wish.

Then… he truly wished that bad for her to recover?

"Alan", Jesse reached for his trembling hands to hold them close, "thank you."

For a moment Wake just stared at his hands, the expression on his face somewhere between surprise and shock, but then he looked at Jesse, and smiled an honest smile at her. "Y-you're welcome."

But there was no more time for them to rest: the gate that Jesse had opened with all of her effort slowly moved back to its former position and the corrupted words on the page started to fade away, leaving not a single trace of their existence behind.

"Damn", hissed Jesse through her teeth and adroitly jumped up on her feet. "Go, go, _go_! Run!"

Wake scrambled to his feet as well. Without thinking, he grabbed Jesse's wrist and pulled her after himself when he dashed right into the bizarre building. And only a moment after they both had crossed the threshold, the gate fell shut behind them.

When Wake stood still, Jesse crashed into him and froze, leaning to his shoulder.

"Oh, sorry", she whispered and observed where they turned out to be.

The walls inside of this place were built from the same black concrete like the outside. There was – obviously – no light in here, but still each detail of their surroundings was perfectly recognizable, just as if the very darkness around them was illuminating it. Black shadows like from ink crept across the walls and floor and ceiling as if they were the very essence of it all, holding everything in balance. The long hallway they stood in lead far ahead and countless corridors were departing from it, twisting and turning, leading into all possible directions and to positions that simply broke any laws of physics apart. It was like a nightmarish maze… except that this place was real.

"What a…!" Jesse carefully stepped to the spot where Wake's flashlight shed its ray. "No way, what's this all about?"

"I have no idea", said Wake and shined around with the flashlight, holding it close as if it was his only hope to stay alive. He shivered like from a cold and his voice started to tremble, too. "Remember that I told you that the Dark Place is taking its very form from the minds of the people trapped in there? I think it's exactly that."

"Definitely, but…" Jesse made one more step and kept looking around. "…this is so messed up."

"Well, Scratch is a messed-up guy too, so it fits, I guess. Maybe _this_ is the true form of the Dark Place… without all the memories of people that shape it."

Wake took another step after her, but then he looked up in awareness. He switched off the flashlight and harshly pushed Jesse into the nearest corridor, only to follow her a second later.

"Nngh, wh—?" she nearly screamed, but fell silent as Wake squeezed her onto something that was meant to be a wall.

"Shhhh! Shut up!" hissed Wake sharply and as he carefully leaned forward to peek out into the hallway, Jesse felt like she was having a déjà vu – wasn't it just like it happened with Scratch after they escaped both from the burning experiment room? Only that the writer had changed places with his twin, and that it was now up to her and Wake to get the Doppelgänger out of this living hell…

And then, she heard it: hasted footsteps, and they came closer very quickly. Wake pushed her further into the shadows and they both held their breath when two figures dressed in black robes approached them; their heads were covered with long hoods and their faces lay in darkness, not recognizable, yet their voices were clear:

"You heard it? They got the deviant", said one of them, the harsh voice dripping with disdain. "That fool was stupid enough to come back willingly."

"The mistress is too angry to deal with him", replied the other with a slight nod and chuckled. "She'd kill him right away, but They need his knowledge first. The federal takes care of this now, I wonder if he proves himself worthy."

_What knowledge_, sparkled in Jesse's mind, _about what? Who are >**They**< exactly, how many of >**Them**< even existed? And hell no, Ja—, _Jesse bit her tongue hard to stop herself from even thinking the name,_ >**she<** won't kill him, not as long as she was still breathing!_

Wake kept holding Jesse to the wall until the steps faded away into the distance, waiting another few moments before he once more leaned out into the corridor.

"Clear", Wake whispered. Having switched his flashlight back on, he took a few stepped back into the hallway and shined the light around to find something – anything – that could lead them their way. If this was any other building he would expect any signs on the walls, a printed floor plan hanging somewhere to give him at least a glimpse of orientation…

Wake gnashed his teeth. What was he even thinking about? This was the Dark Place, the beings in here didn't need any help to find their way! He kept looking around, turned his head first to the right, then to the left, before he looked up to one of the corridors that was built right above their heads… This place was huge!

Where should they even start? Yet alone find Scratch in time?

And these people passing by… they talked about a >_mistress_<. Wake had no doubt who that could be. But who was the >_federal_<? Casey? Or anybody else?

Also, which >_knowledge_< did they need to get from Scratch before killing him?

Wake sighed and rubbed his temples… All these questions and the pure craziness of the very fact that he and Jesse just broke into the Dark Place made him feel dizzy.

Jesse noticed it and took his hand.

"Don't let it go, don't you dare to lose it, you hear me?"

"I'm fine, I'm fine!" Wake quickly pulled his hand away, not meeting eyes with her. "It's just… This is all so messed up, every single detail of this. When this nightmare is over, I'll kill Scratch with my own hands for it, I swear!"

Jesse didn't say anything on that. She only raised her eyebrows, hoping that he was just kidding and that it wasn't… something worse.

"I'm fine, really…" Wake took another deep breath, yet he wasn't able to keep his hands from trembling. He would never admit it, but… it wasn't only the madness of this all that made his head spin. It was something else, something that stirred in the depths of his very soul, something he was not able to name or to even put his finger on—

_Keep yourself together, Wake, you need to get a grip!_

—and suddenly the faint white glow leaked once more from his fingers, flickering and much weaker than before, but still it was enough that his hands slowly stopped shaking.

"Let's find Scratch and get the hell out of here", he said, turning to the right side of the corridor. "The faster the better…"

"Oh, that's for sure!" Jesse smirked and quickly followed his lead.


	21. Return into Madness IV

**~Chapter 20~**

For a while Jesse and Wake walked in silence through the twisted corridors that lead up and down, to the left and to the right, across and beneath floors they had already passed. Apart from those two hooded figures back at the gate they hadn't met anybody else until now, only the inky shadows creeping across the walls and floor kept company to them.

Wake didn't know if this was a good sign, or a bad omen. This was the core of the Dark Place after all, shouldn't things be more… busy in here? However one would define it, though. Also, they still haven't found anything that could be the slightest hint to where Scratch was.

Having stopped at the next intersection that split their way into a total of four, Wake shined ahead with his flashlight, glancing into each corridor, including the one they came from.

And then he sighed and sat on the ground.

"It's hard to admit, but I think we're lost, Jesse." Wake leaned the back of his head to the wall. "Everything looks the same… What a stupid idea it was to even come here!"

_Yes, it__ **is** stupid_, Jesse thought. _But what's done, that's done. If only…_

"Do you have any pen or pencil with you? Maybe you can try to 'write' us a way through?"

Wake thought for a moment, but then he shook his head in silence.

No, he didn't have any pen… only that sheet of paper he had brought with him from the cabin in first place. He reached into his jacket and took the page out of it, looking at it as if it was their last hope of everything, hoping that it would somehow be able help them… but the page stayed blank.

"I doubt we'll ever get out of here again", said Wake and lowered his eyes. "We shouldn't even be here, I'm so sorry that I dragged you into all this."

"Hush, watch your tongue!" Jesse strongly slapped on his shoulder. "Giving up now, what the hell? You're a goddamn _creator_, you can change it!"

"But I can't _create_ anything if I don't have the _tools_ to!" He gnashed his teeth and his fingers tightened around the paper in his hand, crumpling it. This stupid thing wouldn't be a help anyway, maybe it could even lead the twisted beings lurking in here to them!

Jesse caught his wrist and raised his clenched hand with the paper before both their eyes.

"You don't need to have them _now_. Back outside you healed me without any words, think about it!"

"But I healed you without thinking of it! Now I'm thinking too much… I don't know what to do, I-I… I wish…"

_I wish there was any way to get through this_, he thought and looked at the paper in his hands. _Just any way to get out of here alive. To keep Jesse save… To redeem the unspoken promise I made to Scratch – to myself – when following him here. This can't be the end… there must be something, just… anything!_

Almost like a response the paper in his hands began to glow again – yet this time in a pale green rather than the red color of before. And after a moment handwritten words appeared on it, and these were large, curvy letters that looked like written in calligraphy:

"_Follow the Light._"

Wake gasped. He knew these words. He heard them long ago in that nightmarish dream that haunted him when he firstly arrived in Bright Falls, before he got trapped at the Dark Place. It seemed all so long ago, like in a whole different life, and yet he felt as if it had been only yesterday…

"Zane…" he whispered in both shock and awe and in the same moment he said it, the green letters faded away, but not all of them. The remaining melted into another, forming a green dot on the bottom of the page that was flashing weakly but steadily. Even when Wake turned the paper around its own axis the dot kept pointing into the same direction: it was like a compass.

Jesse saw it and she smiled. She knew it, she always knew that he will make it, and that he wasn't alone, he had never been. And that was very, very fine.

But as she thought about it, a glimpse of fearful doubt sparkled in her mind. The further she was going into the Dark Place, the weaker she sensed the Oldest House that was left behind. What was going on in there? How were her people in there and the House itself, holding the Hiss back? Hadn't she betrayed it by leaving?

"I'm keeping (ing)… in control…" Jesse heard a faint voice, whispering like inside of her head, and her hand, formerly wounded, was shining, somehow different than usual, pulsing not from her heartbeat, but like from someone else's. "I'm on guard (guard)… Keep going… I can handle it (it)…"

Jesse took a deep breath, clenched her shining hand to a fist and leaned it to her chest. She, too, was not alone.

_Thank you, Trench._

"Are you okay?" asked Wake in worry, still sitting on the ground.

"Sure", she simply said and nodded with a slight smile. "I guess we now know where to go?"

Wake turned the paper around again, but the green dot still didn't point in another direction. He nodded as well, stood up from the ground and looked around the intersecting corridors for a moment, before he pointed to his right.

"This way!"

And without another word, he dashed into the direction that was marked on the paper, navigating through the supernatural maze of the Dark Place as if he always knew the way.

Jesse ran after him, breathing heavily and soon lagged behind. She could fly, though, that would be much easier and quicker… but no, she should save her powers for now; there would surely come a better time to use them, she could feel it. She caught up to Wake when he stopped at the next intersection..

"You should really sign up for gym, Jesse", he said, grinning as he glanced into each of the corridors to make sure that nobody would be able to ambush them, "Such a slow pace doesn't suit you at all."

"I would've suggested the very same to you several hours ago", Jesse said in retort and Wake chuckled, but his light mood died away immediately when he once more looked at the paper in his hands; the green dot wasn't flashing anymore, but glowed weakly near the page's center.

"I think we found him…", he whispered almost soundlessly and stepped into the hallway to his far right. Jesse followed Wake and froze behind him from what they both managed to find: the corridor ended in a small room with nothing in it – except for an object that looked like some kind of altar, built from the same black stone like the walls around them. Scratch was lying on top of it with closed eyes, unmoving, and an ordinary person might assume that he was just—

"He's sleeping", hissed Wake and stood still on the spot. "We're risking our goddamn lives in here and that bastard is sleeping!"

_What? No way…!_

Jesse passed by Wake. She didn't dare to walk too close towards Scratch, though, or to rush anything – she couldn't tell where it came from, but she had a weird feeling about this all, as if there was still something hiding from their sight. Yet the few steps she took were more than enough to give a better view.

"Alan", she gasped, glancing back over a shoulder, "He… he's not… look!"

Reluctantly the writer came closer. And then, he saw it as well: from the distance Scratch had indeed seemed to be asleep. On second glance, however, Wake realized that it was far from that. In fact, Scratch wasn't even breathing; instead a violent shiver shook his tensed body like he was suffering from a terrible cold, and the only sound within the silence – apart from his clattering teeth – was a faint hissing noise that came from a glowing ribbon wrapped around his left wrist like a shackle, linking him to the surface he was laying on.

"Goddammit…", Wake muttered and stepped forward… but suddenly he froze again, having noticed a slight sparkle only an inch away from where he stood. "What the—!" He raised a hand and touched the thin air before him as if it were made from glass. For a moment nothing seemed to happen, but then a coldness like ice pierced into his skin like thousand tiny needles. It was a feeling he knew too well after all these years, he knew what it meant, what it could do, how it could both create and destroy… and suddenly, the world around him seemed to flicker, only for a second, yet it was enough to pull Wake's mind back into the present; drawing a sharp breath the writer pulled his hand away as if he had burned himself – just in time to see the dark flows that had appeared beneath his fingers, crackling like from electricity as they scattered all over the unseen barrier.

"Hell", Jesse hissed. "We have to break it anyway, no matter how!"

She covered the remaining distance and leaned against the invisible wall, calling for her aura to burn it through, but it was no use – even though the crawling shadows dissolved within her rainbow light, the barrier itself remained untouched.

Gnashing his teeth, Wake silently cursed towards himself. He had been lingering, both back at the gate and within that stupid maze, they had lost time they didn't even have in first place! If only he hadn't hesitated, they would have arrived here earlier, they might have been able to prevent all this!

Just then the paper in Wake's hand began to glow again, and the fine lines of Zane's handwriting formed a single word in green letters on its surface:

"_Hide!_"

Jesse noticed it, too.

"So where should we?", she asked into the silence. "There's nowhere to hide, we have to fight!"

And as she said it, the word faded away and different ones appeared:

"_You can't fight him. He's the new Herald now, and way too strong. Use the light to hide in the shadows. To your left! Hurry!_"

"Are you kidding us?", Wake snarled towards the page, "It's a freaking hallway, there is nothing here, we can't—"

But then he realized the meaning of Zane's paradoxical words. Having raised the flashlight in his hands, Wake aimed its beam at the blank wall on the left, and to his surprise the light wasn't reflected like he expected it to; instead the light went right through the black surface, as if it wasn't even there. Without any other word or thought, Wake grabbed Jesse's wrist and pulled her behind the illusionary wall – just in time, as only a second later the sound of hasted footsteps echoed from far ahead that came closer very quickly.

_Who's >him<, anyway?_ Jesse snorted in impatience, but as much as she was wishing for an answer, she had to admit there was no chance for them to risk in vain. Sighing silently, she covered her eyes with a palm. What the hell she was thinking about when she confessed towards Wake right before Scratch's eyes?! She should have just freaking waited until she was alone with the writer… but Scratch surely wouldn't have left them both alone, no way. And where were they now!

Suddenly the walls around them stirred as if someone had thrown a stone into calm water. Jesse looked at Wake for a long moment, not moving, barely breathing. She saw the same fear within his eyes that was crawling inside of her chest, and slowly reached for her gun, trying to not make any sound. But before she managed to grab it, her eyes froze on the page in Wake's fingers that began to glow again, though much fainter than it had been.

"_He passed the barrier. He can't see you from inside._"

"You're sure about that?" Wake whispered almost silently, having barely moved his lips. "One wrong step and we're dead… or worse."

"_Yes"_, formed the green glow in response. "_He can't see you… doesn't suspect a threat… won't notice… that's how things work…_"

With both eyes fixed at the paper, Wake stretched his free hand out into the corridor, waving it up and down… but even after a few moments nothing happened. "You better don't fail me now…", he whispered, and with a deep breath the writer stepped out of the protecting shadows of the illusionary wall.

Jesse didn't dare to move; she was waiting with heavy pounding heart, ready to jump out after Wake in any second to back him up… but there was no need to. Seconds that seemed to last for an eternity passed, until she finally heard the writer's whisper: "It's true, we're safe here. At least for now."

Sighing with relief Jesse came out behind him… and her glance was immediately caught by someone walking up and down behind Scratch, who still laid on the altar without showing any sign of consciousness. Jesse tilted her head, observing the stranger closely. Black jacket and tie, angular face, short brown hair with strands of gray… she had never seen this man before. Yet Wake seemed to know him; Jesse saw the writer's features tensing more and more with each second passing.

"Wait, do you... Who's that?…" Jesse hissed into Wake's ear.

"Nightingale", he whispered back, his voice was dripping with disdain and cold hate alike. "I have no idea how much you know about him… but he hunted me in Bright Falls and got taken by the… you know…"

Robert Nightingale. Yes, she heard of him. Her trusted agents questioned enough people in Bright Falls, including Sheriff Sarah Breaker who had not a very good opinion of him. She hadn't been the only one though – there were a few other complaints about this guy… along with some files hinting to a short but vain investigation following his sudden disappearance.

"Let me tell you he's an asshole, even when he still was a human. Seems he's not dead after all…"

Jesse slightly nodded, partly to herself, partly in approval of Wake's words. So, Nightingale was the – how did Zane call it – _the new Herald of Darkness_? No surprise he wasn't to be found anywhere.

For a while she and the writer just stood there, neither speaking nor moving; they simply watched Nightingale wandering around… until he suddenly froze still.

"Time to come back to the living, Deviant", he hissed sharply and straightened a hand. Dark flows formed between his fingers, leaking from the tips like black ink, and when he touched Scratch's forehead, the former Herald opened his eyes. Shivering all over, Scratch gasped for air as if he didn't breathe for a long time, yet it soon turned into an agonized cough; a trace of blood dripped from his mouth while countless deep cuts and bright red burn marks appeared all over his face, neck and hands.

Jesse bit her lower lip in growing anger and glanced at Wake, who clenched his hands to fists… and like on his command they started to glow again.

"Alan?" Jesse's heart jumped as she saw Wake's light growing from within. And even though she was more than happy to see his inner powers becoming stronger, it worried her. This disturbance wouldn't remain unnoticed, she was sure of it. "Are you… Are you serious?"

Wake didn't answer. Instead the faint sparkle between his fingers became brighter, much brighter… but then a green glow mixed into it, forcing it to fade away. Once more Zane's words took shape on the page, though much slower than before, as if it took more effort for him to write them: "_Not now… it's not the right time, Alan…_"

"I–I…" Gnashing his teeth, Wake silently cursed. That wasn't fair. This just wasn't fair! He wasn't used to just stand aside and watch; he had to do something! But what? They couldn't get past this goddamn barrier, Nightingale would notice them before they even broke it… yet they couldn't just wait until this bastard killed Scratch either. What else should they do then? Just what? There had to be a way for them all to get out of this madness, there just _had to_!

Jesse nervously observed the setting. Her eyes switched from Zane's writing to Nightingale and back.

_How long should we wait, then,_ she thought, _and for what!_

Alan wouldn't listen to her anyway; he was stubborn as a tree, she couldn't stop him for long. She truly didn't want to intervene, either, but she was beyond angry, too. Yet Jesse knew that it won't end easy – if it only ends…

Suddenly Nightingale looked up. His eyes hastily darted around for a moment, just as if he was trying to locate something invisible within the air, but then he focused at Scratch again. "So, have you changed your mind?" he asked, standing straight before his captive and looking down on him like on something that should be eliminated on first sight. "Or do you need to go back another time? Let me suggest you a deal: you'll tell me what you know about the FBC and the Hiss and I'll grant you a quick and painless death."

Jesse silently gasped, remembering what she read in the long burned manuscript.

_>In the last couple of weeks the Herald was becoming deviant anyway. He had been foolish enough to think that nobody would notice his secret visits to the Oldest House, but of course They knew. They always did.<_

Yet the Dark Presence didn't seem to know everything that Scratch knew. Otherwise they wouldn't keep him alive for so long, and Nightingale wouldn't have to question him like this, right? Or rather to interrogate him, as it was exactly that. And – considering the very fact that Scratch's wounds didn't heal by themselves – this interrogation must surely be a painful one. A quick death would certainly be the easiest way to get out of this...

And then her eyes widened – wasn't this exactly what Scratch had asked for back in the experiment room? Hell, he wouldn't betray them for that, would he?

But to her surprise Scratch looked straight into Nightingale's face; the stubborn and determined look within his eyes formed a sharp contrast to his weak voice that had dropped to an almost inaudible whisper: "N-not… not in this life…"

"Oh, I see…", said Nightingale and a scornful smirk appeared on his lips. "You still think they will save you, right? You want to defend your little secret because you hope that they will show up and get you out of here. Let me tell you, deviant, it won't happen. The writer isn't stupid enough to come back here after he got trapped for years. They'll just forget about you and live on their normal lives; you won't be anything else than a faint memory for them, not even this. Do you really think they would care about you? About _you_? You're an even larger fool than I thought!"

Jesse barely held herself from bursting of laugh when she heard Nightingale's words. >The writer isn't stupid enough to come back<… and still he was right here, along with her, only waiting for their chance to strike. Human minds could be tricky, couldn't they?

"I-I know that they won't come to save me. I know that they… that they don't care. That's no news for me, Robert." Scratch chuckled hoarsely, something reminding of a mocking smile appeared on his features. "S-still, I'd rather endure a century of… of _this_, than telling you anything! So go on with y-your punishment, I-I won't give in!"

Just then, Nightingale grabbed Scratch's shirt in rage and forcibly pulled him up.

"Do you really think that this is some sort of game?", he snarled, their faces only an inch away from another. "I'll find out anyway when you take your last breath, you can't win this, you only make it worse for yourself! This is your last chance!"

Scratch didn't answer. And apart from a sharp hiss not a single sound left his lips. He just cunningly looked straight at Nightingale for another moment before he tore his glance away and closed his eyes as if to make a silent, yet final statement. Roaring furiously, Nightingale once more raised his shadow-covered hand… but he never got a chance to strike Scratch with it; suddenly there was a crack like from thunder and another man appeared next to them, literally taking shape out of nowhere.

"Nightingale", he said, "we have a problem."

"Oh shit", Jesse whispered into Wake's ear, "I think we've been spotted."

Drawing her gun with one hand she moved the fingers of the other, calling for her inner powers that soon replied with a faint glow. And only after she glanced at Wake. So this was the _exact_ _time_ to attack before they were found, nothing else to wait for… right?

"We can't fight them both", Wake whispered back and slightly shook the head; and despite he, too, reached for his gun, he didn't move apart from that. Instead he kept looking at Nightingale, tracing him with his eyes when he released Scratch and approached the other man.

"For you it's still >**_Herald_ _of_ _Darkness_**<", snarled Nightingale, harshly grabbing the other by the shoulder. "You better have an important reason to disturb me; speak or you'll be punished like _him_!"

"There was interference at the gate, Herald", said the stranger and – having quickly glanced at Scratch – submissively lowered his head. "Someone might've messed with it, but we can't say for sure. You… you should take a look yourself."

">_Interference at the gate_<? But who could—" Cutting himself off, Nightingale fell silent. He released his grip from the stranger's shoulder, seemingly thinking for a moment, before he turned back to Scratch. "Don't worry, Deviant", he said, smiling scornfully at the expression on his predecessor's face that lay somewhere between shock, faint hope and disbelief. "The writer won't get here in time. He will never find his way through the maze. He'll get lost and be killed, and it'll be _your_ fault." Nightingale once more waved his hand. The darkness covering his palm stirred – and within the blink of an eye it changed into the shape of a translucent sword. "I offered you a painless death, but you seem to prefer the… _traditional_ _way_…"

And only after, without hesitating, Nightingale brought the sword down, stabbing it deeply into Scratch's chest. Scratch didn't have any chance to react; only his eyes widened in shock. For a moment time seemed to stand still, but then thick dark flows leaked from the ghostly blade, seeping into the wound and Scratch screamed, loud and painful, cringing like his nerves were blazing with electric agony. Yet the eerie echo of his hoarse voice soon died away – and even though he seemed to black out he still weakly whimpered as a stream of blood began to flow from his nose and ears, growing stronger with every passing second.

Having watched Scratch's desperate struggle for a moment, Nightingale eventually bowed down once more.

"You always get what you deserve", he hissed into Scratch's ear, before he nodded towards the other man and when they both dissolved into nothingness, the page in Wake's hand glowed again to form Zane's words for a last time.

"_Now is the time_ … _the barrier is still weakened from his passage… break it_!"

And then the green glow faded completely, leaving the page blank like before.

"**_Go!!!_**" yelled Jesse and rushed on the barrier – she was shining blindingly bright from her rainbow aura, while his hands once more filled with the white glow of his inner light.

This time the barrier didn't stand a chance – it turned bright red as they both touched it. Sparks of darkness burst from the glowing surface just as if it was trying to defend itself from being passed; giant cracks appeared all over it that got larger and larger, no matter how much the shadows leaking from the walls tried to repair them. And then – with a crack from thunder and the loud noise of breaking glass just like back at the gate – the barrier broke apart into sharp shards that kept sizzling from the energy that was inside of them.

"Scratch!" Jesse ran to the former Herald and touched the sword sticking from his chest with her still glowing hand, yet she shrank back immediately when Scratch once more yelped loudly in pain, weakly moving to get away from her as much as he could.. "We're here, we are _here_, you hear me?!"

She never got an answer.

"Do something, Jesse," yelled Wake over a shoulder; he was standing with his back to them and aiming his flashlight and gun into the corridor. "They'll find us if we stay here!"

"Me? I'm trying, god… dammit!" She once more grabbed the sword's handle tightly; Scratch's agonized screams pierced like a needle through Jesse's heart, but she forcibly pushed the disturbing and troubled emotions away that stirred within her. This wasn't the time to be weak, she had to get rid of this damn sword, no matter how much it hurt him, there was no other way! Yet the stubborn thing didn't move an inch away.

Jesse roared and let her light spread, making it soak into the entire matter of darkness crawling around, and after what seemed like an eternity to her, the ghostly blade got covered with shiny cracks. Clenching her teeth, Jesse screamed in anger, held it much more stronger – and finally, she pulled the sword over and it shattered into flying dust and black smoke; with a last loud scream Scratch jolted up; still shivering all over, he coughed hard and pressed a hand to his chest where the sword had stuck before.

"Scratch! You Stupid, how could you run away from us like that?!" Jesse desperately embraced him, once more calling for her aura to let it flow from her body for a while… until she noticed an almost unnoticeable shudder running through his figure.

_No, wait, Jesse_, she thought, _you can't just fill him with light like you did to Alan, you'll hurt him even more._

And she let her light dissolve beneath her skin again and just laid her hand on the scar that still remained on Scratch's nape after she had banished his darkness away for the first time.

"J-Jesse… are you… are you mad", Scratch snarled, his voice – despite weak and exhausted – was full of anger, yet he didn't look up to meet eyes with her. "How could you come here… I-I told you to… restore the barrier… and to… to stay away… What i-if They find you…!"

Jesse snorted – same old Scratch – and hugged him tight, hoping that if not her light but, at least, her warmth allowed him to feel better, even if only a little bit.

"Shhh", she said calmly and soothingly stroke across his back. "I told you I won't let you go away, see?"

"I… I was a fool, Jesse…", whispered Scratch out of a sudden, leaning heavily against her shoulder, "I-I'm sorry… I'm so very sorry about everything…"

"That's alright", she whispered back and sighed silently. So much of her strength had been used today, so many emotions… _This won't be left without consequences for my powers_, she secretly thought, yet she continued holding Scratch like a child.

"_HEY_!" yelled Wake towards them over a shoulder, still aiming his flashlight and gun into the corridor. "This is no freaking tea party here; did you forget _where_ we are? We must go! Right now, before the asshole comes back!"

_Finally. Oh yeah, finally, he can keep himself on an acceptable level, at last._

"Ooooh, that's the spirit, _Mr. Wake_, you're goddamn right!" Jesse smiled with a slight laugh and reached for Scratch's hand to get him up to his feet. "Let us go! Come on, Scratch, collect yourself!"

Scratch hissed sharply he came to stand. Breathing heavily, he made a few unsteady steps, but soon he got hold back by force. He glanced over a shoulder and when he looked back at Jesse, his eyes were full of shock and fear.

"No, w-we must—!" But he never got the chance to finish what he wanted to say; the translucent ribbon on his wrist, still binding him to the altar of black stone, changed color from violet to a bright red, and Scratch fell to his knees like a cut tree. "Leave me alone, leave me alone!", he yelled, covering his ears as if to shield himself from a voice that only he was able to hear, and once more the blood began to flow from beneath his fingers. "You won't get me, I won't tell you, I-I…!"

"Nrgh! Hell!" Jesse wrapped the shackle with her palms. Her entire soul was burning from anger, hate, disdain – and she turned this inner flame into a new power push, willing to break the chains that were holding Scratch back. She simply didn't care anymore about any consequences, nor if she ever regrets what she had done and was going to do…

But then, another light mixed into Jesse's – weakly green and flickering as if it could get extinguished any second.

"Don't, Jesse", whispered Zane's faint voice inside of her head, "you still need your powers. Think about the House and your agents, they need you… Let me break it, I know this pattern better than you."

"Yes… I guess you're right", Jesse answered in her thoughts and let her light disappear within her body. "But will you manage to? Don't fade away because of me."

"I will, don't worry I've been in this place for almost half a century; I know what my powers are capable of. My light may grow weaker, but it won't vanish completely, trust me."

Jesse slightly nodded, and when she released her grip from Scratch, the glowing shackle on his wrist got engulfed by the green glimmer, and it began to glow, brighter and brighter, as bright that it nearly hurt the eye… until finally the chain broke apart with a loud crack—

"It tried to tear apart his soul, he may not—"

—and suddenly, without any warning, Zane's light was gone.

"Zane? Don't leave!" Jesse fearfully screamed in her thoughts and her anger grew even stronger, much stronger than it had ever been – nothing will stand in her way now; she will win, **_-they-_** will win this, no matter what; whatever it takes to get out of this living hell!

Scratch stopped shivering and raised his head, his eyes were confused, his face covered in fear. "What… what did just—?", he whispered, but then he spotted Jesse and Wake, and jumped up to his feet, taking a few steps away from them. "Who… who are you?", he asked, but before any of them could answer, the heavy silence was forcibly torn apart:

"The main gate has been broken!" snarled Nightingale's harsh voice, echoing from everywhere at the same time, not only from the walls, but from as close as if he stood right next to them. "Lock the whole place down! Guard all access-points! Find the intruders! Bring them to me, but alive! Whoever kills them will suffer the same fate as the deviant!"

Flinching hard, Scratch raised his head to the ceiling.

">Intruders<? >Deviant<?", he repeated, and his eyes darted around in confusion and fear. "Does he mean… does he mean us? W-what happened? Who the hell are you?"

"No time to explain, we'll tell you later!" Wake forcibly grabbed his hand and pulled him behind when he dashed into the corridor. "We must get out of here, right now!"

_When the hell will this ubiquitous amnesia finally end?!_

Jesse reached the writer and his doppelgänger from behind, grabbed them both under the arms and launched herself into the air to fly with them through the hallways.

It was so dark in here now, much darker than it had been before. She couldn't even see further than a few meters in front of them, and while Wake was shining the way with his flashlight, Scratch clenched close to Jesse, seemingly afraid that he might fall. For a moment they were passing through the corridors in silence, but when they flew straight across one intersection, Scratch suddenly opened his eyes.

"No!", he gasped, "N-not this way!"

"Shut up", snarled Wake back, "that's the way we came from, we won't change direction!"

"It's the wrong way! We must go to the left! The left!"

"You _both_ shut up, for Heaven's sake!" Jesse blurted out and then said a bit calmer: "Alan, prompt me where to fly if I'm _really_ going the wrong way."

"We _are_ on the right way, Jesse", said Wake, glancing angrily towards Scratch. "Of course we are, _it's the way we came from_! And now shut your mouth, Scratch!"

"I-It's not the right way", insisted Scratch and started to struggle against Jesse's grip. "Somebody changed this place to confuse us! I don't know _why_ I know, but I _do_ know! We might've never met before, but you should _trust_ me!"

Jesse silently roared at his words. How could he dare to tell her anything about _trust_, the very thing whose existence he had denied not even an hour ago?

"Scratch, I would punch you in the face for that if only my hands were free. What a nonsense! Are you kidding me?" And she held him even stronger to herself. _If only he says it again, she'll burn him with her aura, she could swear of it!_

"I'm not kidding! Why should I?" Scratch's eyes darted around in haste and fear. "We must go back, right now!"

"Don't make me do it!" Jesse hissed at him – more from impotence now than from hate. "Damn, where's the end of this hellhole?!"

"I told you: it's back and to the left! Why don't you just trust me?!"

"Just shut up, goddammit!" yelled Wake and raised the flashlight, smacking it to his Doppelgänger's neck. "Geez, he's still an annoying bastard", he added when Scratch's body sank limp but heavy into Jesse's grip. "Keep going straight ahead, Jesse!"

"Wow, that was tough", Jesse admitted, yet with honest understanding, and grabbed them both closer. Her strength… she felt it slipping away, slowly, but surely… _I can fail to make it_, suddenly shot into her mind. But no, she must carry on, she had no choice, there was no other way!

"His luck that I can't reach my gun", said Wake with smirk. "I would've— Oh **_shit_**!" he suddenly yelled loudly, and Jesse screamed, too, as she saw it: the corridor they were passing through was leading to a dead end. She released both Wake and Scratch from her grasp and made a flip in the air to slow down before hitting the wall. Right after, she jumped on the floor near them and laid both hands on the chest where the heart of her was pounding like mad.

"The hell…? No way!"

"No… No!" Wake rushed towards the dead end and raised his flashlight towards the black stone, hoping that it would be another illusion, but this wall was as solid as it was supposed to. Realizing it, Wake ran back to Scratch, who still laid unconscious on the floor.

"Hey, Scratch, wake up", he said, slapping his twin's cheek and shaking his shoulders. "You were right, okay? You were right! Just wake up and tell us where to go, we'll listen to you now, I promise!"

But no matter how much he begged, it was no use; Scratch didn't move an inch, neither did he react on anything.

** _Shit!_ **

Wake shortly glanced at Jesse, gnashing his teeth and cursing to himself. Scratch knew this place better then him and Jesse together; of course he did, he spent most of his life in here after all. Why did he only… why didn't he listen? Now they had to figure out a new plan.

Jesse silently hissed and walked back and forth, shivering from the palette of emotions she was tired to hide. The Dark Place was a living being, just like her own Oldest House. But she cares about her House like for her own baby that cries when she's in hurt and feels happy when she's alright – as for this Place, she would smash it in pieces, twist it, forcibly shape something new from it just to make it feel the same cursed pain that she was feeling now.

"I'm sorry, Jesse, I didn't know… I-I thought—"

Yet Wake never managed to finish his sentence; he was interrupted by an almost quiet chuckle right behind them, and a cold voice that followed straight away.

"You should've listened to him, hm?"

Jesse's heart skipped a beat. She recognized this voice immediately – it belonged to the man who had warned Nightingale before. And when she turned around, she slightly startled at seeing their opponents face: short, blonde hair, sharp facial features, a piercing-through glance within the blue eyes… it was Alex Casey who stood before them, no doubt on that, even though the sinister smile on his face was so very different from any photograph of him she had seen within the last weeks. Just like the dark flows that crawled over his body and face, distorting his features in a way that no natural shadow could.

_So he's a Taken now_, shot through Jesse mind,_ and there is no way to save him? Oh hell, now he would definitely use this chance to take revenge on Wake for having him killed before; what a freaking irony…_

"Stay back, Casey", Wake yelled and – having scramcled to his feet – aimed both his gun and flashlight at him. "Don't you dare to come any closer!"

"You better listen to him", Jesse raised her gun as well and her aura flickered for a blink of an eye, "I don't want to hurt you, neither does he, you got it?"

"Oh **_I_** won't come closer, don't worry… I'd really love to kill you, Wake, but the instructions were clear. A shame if you ask me, really. But still…"

The smirk on Casey's face widened when he leaned his palm on the nearest wall—

"I found them, Herald! Sector B-75, Corridor 728, North-Side!"

—and a shadow leaked from his fingers like black ink, crawling across the wall and only after a dark sparks scattered through the air, forming a bright red barrier behind Casey that blocked the way they came from.

"_No_!" without any thoughts, Jesse pulled the trigger of her gun, but the bullet was reflected from Casey like from an invisible shield and disappeared into the darkness.

"Useless", he said, smirking straight into her face. "This place follows its own rules, I'm sure the deviant told you that. Yet it seems that you still haven't learned anything… What simple minded fools you are…"

That was enough.

Casey's smug grin, his sneering words, the fact that they were cornered like goddamn rats trapped in a cage… this all lit Jesse's soul up like a fire that burned with hate, rage, despair and the will to avenge for everything that she had been put through today.

Roaring in anger she charged towards Casey to knock him over, to make him suffer for everything he had done to them… but before she could get too close, Wake caught her hand and pulled her back, and now it was her turn to struggle with him.

"Let me go, let me—!" Jesse tried to get away from Wake – but stood still, having noticed a movement behind herself. Looking back over a shoulder, she saw how Scratch slightly stirred, clumsily reaching for his neck where Wake had struck him. And yet he didn't seem to come back to full senses, as he kept his eyes closed, groaning quietly from the pain that the rough knock out had brought to him.

But there was no freaking time for that, Nightingale would be with them very soon.

_Think, Jesse, think!_

And then her glance fell on Wake's flashlight. This surely wasn't the nicest or best way to wake someone from their unconsciousness, but specific problems required specific solutions, after all. She tore the flashlight from the writer's grasp and directed its beam directly on Scratch's face, and just like she intended it, Scratch jolted like he got an electric shock. Having jumped to his feet within a second, his glance hastily switched between Jesse, Wake, Casey's glowing barrier and the dead end behind.

"I-I told you it's the wrong way… I told you!" he whispered and reached into his jacket. "My… my knife… I need my knife… where is it? Where is it, lady?"

The knife? Oh, right! She actually took it with her when she and Wake left the cafeteria; she still hoped to give it back. But wait… she used so much of her powers and this was when Scratch's knife was hiding behind her jacket's bosom along with the gun! She wondered… what if it was much more than just…?

"Catch!" Jesse revealed the knife and threw it to its true owner; Scratch caught it and a weak flow like from black ink leaked from his fingers – flickering faintly, yet still strong enough to cover his hand along with the knife. And as the shadows faded away, the blade between Scratch's fingers had changed appearance: it wasn't silver any longer, neither did it still look like an ordinary kitchen-knife; instead its shape had melted away into a dagger from black metal with silver ornaments on it.

Jesse shortly frowned when Scratch took a few unsteady steps towards the dead end, but to her surprise the blade didn't break apart when he stabbed it into the concrete, not even when he pulled it all the way to the ground. Instead the wall got covered with the fine silver lines that spread over it, glistening in a strangely in the dim twilight all around. And when Scratch drew out the dagger from the concrete again, he hissed a few words in an unknown language… and the wall opened on his command, revealing the corridor beyond.

_It works… it works!_

Jesse didn't hesitate to scream out from the glimpse of insane happiness that flared up in her soul among the fading anger.

From the corner of her eye, she noticed how Casey leaned his palm on the wall again.

"Hurry, Herald", he yelled furiously, "they're getting away! I need new orders!"

And only after Nightingale's harsh voice echoed from the walls around:

"Something's blocking me… I can't come to your position… Kill them! Don't let them escape!"

"Hell no! Bye-bye!" Jesse replied sarcastically. This strange overwhelming euphoria was nothing like she ever felt before. Maybe this was one of the very consequences of the huge power loss that she expected. But who cares if it helped her to not give up? She just surrendered and let it be.

She grabbed Scratch's hand to pull him into the newly opened passage. Wake quickly followed behind and when Casey charged after them, but out of a sudden the wall behind them glowed in faintly green and fell back close, leaving the agent trapped within the corridor—

"Dammit! Herald, I need one of the keys, hurry!"

—and soon their pursuer's cursing voice faded in the distance.

"To the left, lady, please… I'm not able to open another dead end…"

Seeing Scratch falling behind, Jesse caught him up under the armpits.

"Here, here, we've got it now, I'm sorry", she said and laid his arm around her own shoulder.

_To the left. Now that's for sure_ _._

She quickly led him along the corridor and Scratch silently followed her lead. He didn't focus his eyes at anything, but only looked around tiredly to stay conscious, clenching the dagger in his hand closely as if his life depended on it.

"The main gate is closed and guarded", he said after a moment, his words hard to understand between the heavy breaths he took. "But I know another way… a secret way… it leads to a weird place, but it's far better than this one… it grants… _control_… I-I hope I can still find it—"

And then, he froze still.

"Hey!" Jesse reached for his elbow with her free hand and shook it. "Don't you dare to faint now, you hear me? We don't have time for that!"

Heavily breathing, Scratch closed his eyes, and for a moment it seemed as if Jesse's words would fade unheard, but then he slightly raised a finger, pointing at a spot on the wall across that looked just like every other around them.

"There's nothing there, Scratch", said Jesse with a sigh. This all must affect him indeed very badly when he was already hallucinating. But to her surprise Scratch shook the head.

"I-it's there… the secret path…"

Jesse shrugged.

"And… what now?"

Getting away from Jesse's grasp, Scratch walked towards the wall with unsteady steps and laid his palm on it, touching it in various places as if he was searching for something hidden within the black concrete. Then he raised the dagger again, stabbed it deeply into the stone and turned it around like a key… and within a second the wall crumbled away into gravel and dust, revealing a long tunnel with rough, rainbow colored walls that led far ahead.

"It'll hurt to pass it", whispered Scratch weakly and when he once more leaned with his back against the nearest wall, his knees gave in and he slid down to the ground. "But we're safe in the House that lies beyond… Th-they can't get us there, I tried it before… please t-trust me…"

"Alan?" asked Jesse as the writer came back to them. "We should do it, right?"

Wake looked at Scratch for a moment, then he glanced back into the hallways of the Dark Place, and finally he peeked into the illuminated passage. He had no idea where this would lead them to, or what they would face on their way. And yet…

"Each place is better than this one", he simply said and reached for Scratch's shoulders to pull him back to his feet and to drag him into the tunnel.

Jesse sadly sighed and followed behind.


	22. Return into Madness V

**~Chapter 21~**

Wake and Jesse walked through the tunnel in silence, holding Scratch between them, who had meanwhile blacked out from the combination of his injuries, the power loss and the bright light all around. After a while, though, the rough and crude appearance around them gave way to a more smooth architecture, changing from an underground tunnel to a corridor with plastered walls that seemed oddly familiar. And when they finally reached what seemed to be another dead end, Wake took the dagger from Scratch's jacket.

"I hope it'll work for me too", he said almost silently and raised the dagger to stab it into the wall, just like Scratch had done it before… but the blade slipped off from the stone with a nasty sound.

_Hell, that wasn't good! They were so very close to leave the madness of the Dark Place behind… and now they were stuck?_

Wake weighted the dagger within his hand for a while, turning it around over and over, looking at it from every angle… then he glanced at Scratch.

_Maybe…?_

Wake reached for Scratch's hand and laid the dagger into it; the former Herald shortly whimpered, yet his fingers closed around the handle by itself, like it was an instinct for him to clench his weapon even within unconsciousness. Covering Scratch's hand closely with his own, Wake once more raised the dagger… and this time the blade smoothly cut through the stone. Nothing more seemed to happen at first, but then pale dark flows like black ink leaked from Scratch's fingertips, crawling over the dagger towards the wall. And finally – after moments that lasted for an eternity – the wall crumbled apart; behind it, there was a large room, illuminated by the bright glow of artificial light, with a large desk standing in the middle and a photograph of a lighthouse hanging on the opposite wall.

Jesse gasped, barely believing her eyes. _Please, let it be real_, she thought,_ let it be not another delusion…_ This was her office, her dearest House. Her home.

"Are we… are we really back?" Wake laid Scratch on the ground and tapped against the wall, slightly smiling as he heard the dull sound of concrete along with an otherworldly howl that sounded terrifying as ever, yet it was weak and far away.

Jesse would have never thought she will be _that_ _happy_ to hear this howl. She nervously laughed, and several teardrops slid over her cheeks.

She **_was_** home.

"Welcome back (back)…" she heard the ghostly echo. "Just one more push, Jesse, one last time (time)… the barrier… I help you finish (ish)…"

_Oh yes. The final thing she must be done with._

The dark hole in the wall slowly closed up as Jesse leaned to the wallpaper and called out for the switches of the protection barrier.

Trench's hissing whisper crawled inside the concrete and plastic, helping her to rule the Oldest House, to be the true Director of the Bureau… to have _control_.

As the colorful glow disappeared from the solid walls and Jesse's body, she deeply sighed with relief and collapsed on the floor, still conscious, but unable to move an inch away.

"You did it well, Jesse", whispered the House with Trench's voice. "You can be proud of yourself (self)…"

Wake didn't think long about it when he embraced Jesse tightly. Still not moving, not even able to say anything properly, Jesse glanced at him, the tears were flowing from her eyes, and she could only mumble, shaking from silent sobbing.

"…won't… I… let go… strong enough… can go…"

"Shhh… It's alright, Jesse, it's alright, you're home. We all are." Wake kept holding her close, stroking across her back, but then smirked a bit. "Get yourself together, Director, broken words don't suit you, not at all."

"I-i know… k-know, I…" She loudly gulped and tried to speak again. "Return… the world is waiting… I'm letting you go…"

And when she said it, pale rainbow light sparkled between them for a second, and Jesse fainted in Wake's arms.

"Jesse? Oh hell!" Wake caught her fall and carefully laid her on the ground nearby Scratch, then he looked around in the empty room. "Trench? She'll be okay again, right?"

There was no answer; but suddenly Jesse opened her eyes again and weakly smiled, wheezing from tears in her throat.

"Y-you know Alan…", she whispered, her voice was still trembling. "You asked me why we are bound. That's easy, isn't it?" She took a deep breath and hardly coughed. "I left… so much of my powers in you… tried so hard… At first, it was just… just an interest… a mystery to reveal, you know? And then it went… way too personal to me", Jesse moved her body a little bit, but she quickly sagged again. There was no strength left within her for now. But it will return, it surely would, only a matter of time. "If I can _heal_ the House… and you… what about other people? What about…" She sighed. "I believe I'm a better person now, much better than I was…" Jesse gulped again and forcibly nodded to her desk. "There must be my phone on the desk. Give it to me, Alan. I believe there should be… something… I guess…"

Wake smiled without saying anything and walked over to the desk. There was indeed her phone laying on top of a bunch of files and papers.

"What do you want with it?", he asked and picked the phone up, observing the small light on its surface that was flashing steadily.

"Give it to me", she squeezed out. "I… I must see…"

And when Wake came back to her, she reached the phone with her hand and activated the screen.

_Oh God… Seven lost calls and one long message. Well done, Jesse, her doubts are finally vanished._

"I must admit I lied to you once", Jesse said quietly. "I've never met Alice face to face, yet I've been talking to her by phone for… quite enough time. Look at that."

She showed the phone screen to Wake to let him see the message with following lines:

"_Ms. Faden, you were right! I don't know what I was thinking, how could I keep believing for so many years that he's dead! You knew what only the two of us could know. And about my dream of Arizona, too. It was real! Now I know! I need to talk to you. Call me back ASAP._"

Wake stared at the phone, speechless, unable to move. His head felt dizzy all of a sudden, his went throat dry. Jesse had really talked to Alice… and Alice knew… she knew!

This was the very moment he had fought for all these years and now, it was finally there!

He reached towards the screen, yet he didn't touch it, scared that this all was just an illusion that would shatter once he did.

Jesse smiled and peacefully leaned her head back.

"You can go any moment from now… she's waiting… you don't need me anymore… and I'm glad…"

"I… I…" Wake gulped hard, then looked at Scratch who still lay unconscious. "What about him? He has nowhere to go, but I can't just take him with me… And what about Casey? He's not really dead, but people will never know the truth…"

"Don't worry about that, Alan, I will take care of it. We Bureau agents know our ways, trust me", Jesse said with a slight smirk. And Scratch… well, it's just an idea, but… he could stay with us? The best way of hiding is to hide before everyone's eyes. If you know what I mean", She slightly moved again, trying to touch Wake with her weakened fingers. "We have everything to protect him… even if the House is the closest way to the Dark Place, I think."

Wake didn't answer on that at first, but then he nodded. "I guess you're right, it might be really the best. At least until he remembers and makes his own decision where to go…" He then focused his eyes at Jesse. "And what about you? Will we ever meet again?"

"If the Hiss doesn't kill me in the end…" she said with a hoarse chuckle. "We can always keep in touch, right?"

"Fair enough. Just take care that Scratch doesn't kill the Hiss accidently, you surely don't want him to slaughter your prey, hm?" Wake smirked again and took Jesse's hand, holding it closely. "Thank you, Jesse. For everything. I owe you very big time."

"No need…" she squeezed a painful smile "I'm just… glad to know you… and your inner light… keep it safe, don't let it fade anymore." Jesse coughed again and slowly closed her eyes. "You are strong now. Don't be afraid, I won't go. But you can… Yet I'm here, I'm always here. I'll never go away…"

And so she became silent. She kept her promise, the most important one she ever made, and she fulfilled it. She was done for now…

"I won't let it fade ever again. I promise."

Laying her back on the ground, Wake closed his eyes and called for his inner powers… and they replied. Feeling the warmth forming between his fingers, Wake straightened his hand to rest it on Jesse's forehead. For a long while the white light shined between them, and when it finally faded away beneath his skin, Wake opened his eyes again and sighed. As much as he wanted to follow Jesse's words right away, as much was he afraid to. This whole madness had drained so many powers from her. What if she wouldn't be the same ever after? What if… what if she would never—?

"She'll be fine (fine)", whispered the walls around him before he could bring his thought to an end. "I will watch (watch)… Your light protects you… You should go now… it's about time (time)…"

Wake stood up, and he had already reached the door, when he looked back at Jesse one last time. He smiled as he saw the faint blue glow of Trench's aura, sparkling within the air like countless tiny ice crystals.

And so, Wake left the office to return.

Back to his old life.

Back to Barry.

Back to Alice.

And as the door fell close behind him, something appeared on one of the walls in Jesse's office, right beneath the photo of the lighthouse. A framed piece of paper took shape straight from thin air; it was seemingly blank at first, but after a moment fine lines appeared on it, one after another, until they formed large, curvy letters – handwritten in calligraphy and glowing brightly green, too:

"_Beyond the Shadow you settle for, there is a Miracle illuminated._"

_ **~*~*~*~ THE END ~*~*~*~** _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... this is it. We hope you enjoyed this story, feel free to write a comment with your thoughts :)  
Farewell, and remember... Always stay in the Light!


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